An Espada's Christmas Carol
by ShiroMoon
Summary: In this retelling of Charles Dickens' "A Christmas Carol", Grimmjow must learn the true spirit of Christmas if he is to save his soul from eternal suffering. And along the way, he discovers remarkable things he never knew about Christmas, his enemies and his comrades and most of all, himself. (Contains GrimmUlqui in later chapters.)
1. Chapter 1

**An Espada's Christmas Carol**

**Part 1; Shawlong Koufang**

It was a beautiful day in Karakura town. Snow fell from the sky and littered the ground and children weaved in and out between the busy crowds, jumping and playing in the snow. In every store were red and green lights and other decorations and outside some shops, a bearded man in a red suit rang bells, asking for charity, most of which was surprisingly given.

From a rooftop, Grimmjow sat and watched the proceedings with a scowl. He watched a couple run up and put some money into the fat man's tin. "That's a stupid thing to do. For all you know he's gonna use that on drugs and shit. Fucking morons." Grimmjow grumbled, wiping his nose. He hated this stupid weather. How could humans be happy in it?

But mostly, he hated the guy standing behind him. Ulquiorra stood behind him, his tailcoats blowing in the wind and snow nestled in his black hair. "Yes." He agreed, his emerald eyes watching the festivities below. "It is foolish. But while you sit and mock them, we are here for a reason. If you are so interested in the humans, go and join their foolish festivities." Grimmjow turned around to glare fiercely at Ulquiorra and said, "And you wouldn't have noticed me looking if _you_ weren't looking. Put your eyes back in your damn head, Ulquiorra!"

"What on Earth made you think I would want to look at you?" Ulquiorra asked. "We are here to investigate our target. Not gawp at the stupidity of human festivities. If you are truly interested in such a thing—," he began. Grimmjow snapped, "Don't get the wrong idea, Ulquiorra. I fucking hate it! And when I find the guy who's forced me to wait out in this damned cold, I'm gonna kick his ass!"

And Ulquiorra said, "There he is."

Grimmjow looked down into the street. Ichigo Kurosaki strode through the streets, stopping to stare in at shop windows. Grimmjow's fist clenched and his urge to rip the man's flesh off was suddenly unbearable. It always was whenever he saw him, but having just sat in the freezing cold for hours on end waiting for this little brat, he wanted to absolutely murder him!

Ulquiorra said, "The Menos are about to be released from the Garganta. In a moment we'll see how he has regressed and head back. Contain yourself." Grimmjow was _beyond _ready to contain himself. "We both know he'll kill those weak fucks in a second. Face it; you'll get much better results for your precious Aizen if he has a _real_ fight!"

And Grimmjow shot from the roof and flew at the orange haired teen below them. He prepared a Cero. Ichigo's head whipped around and a deep snarl appeared on his face. "No. Not today you fucking prick!" he yelled, the crowd staring at him as he seemingly screamed at no one. He pressed his badge to his chest.

Grimmjow grinned and said, "That's a good look, Kurosaki! Come at me!" and Ichigo shot at him and instantly fired a Getsuga at him! As Grimmjow prepared to vanish, Ichigo flew at him _through_ the Getsuga with his _mask_ on and slammed a kick into his stomach! "It's fucking _Christmas_ you dickhead!" he roared.

Grimmjow crashed into a building, his eyes wide and a grin still present. Ulquiorra sighed from where he stood on the rooftop. "Idiot." He mumbled, before continuing to observe Kurosaki's abilities. Grimmjow flew from the small crater in the building and charged, drawing his sword. "Shit, I didn't expect you to use your mask already! What's wrong, scared you'll lose without it?!"

Ichigo vanished and appeared behind him and swung his sword and Grimmjow caught it in his bare fist but felt the cold blade bite into his skin. Grimmjow kicked him hard in the stomach but Ichigo merely knocked the kick away and prepared a Getsuga and Grimmjow instantly prepared a Cero against his blade. They both froze, knowing that both a Getsuga and Cero this close would probably end in their demise.

Ichigo said, "God dammit, Grimmjow! Cut the crap for today!" Grimmjow said, "Fuck, you're pathetic! Hell no, I ain't stopping! Why should I?"

Ichigo said, "Wait, so even Espada don't know about Christmas?"

"Yeah we do, but like hell we're gonna celebrate it or change our ways because of some human holiday!" Grimmjow snapped. "Anyway, Christmas doesn't have anything to do with that fact that I'm about to blow your fucking head off!"

Ichigo scowled and moved fast and vanished and appeared behind him. Grimmjow whipped around and scowled when he found Ichigo removing his mask and reverting back. Grimmjow was enraged! The nerve of this fucking kid! What was he _doing_? "The hell are you—?"

Ichigo said, "I'm not fighting with you today. Since Ulquiorra's here, I can imagine Aizen's doing some creepy check up on me. Well, you got what you wanted. But I'm not doing this today. Not on Christmas Eve. Haven't you ever got tired chasing me down all the time and demanding a fight with whoever looks at you improperly?"

"Fuck no." Grimmjow snarled. "Change back and fight."

"No."

"Why you—!"

Ichigo said, "Look, can we just take a day off from this bullshit already? Tell you what. I'll fight you whenever you like if you cut it out for today and-,"

"Fuck no." Grimmjow spat. Truthfully if that was what he got in exchange, he had considered it. But he was too prideful for that. Ichigo continued, "—And since I don't see how you can possibly live with yourself for not celebrating it, come over to my house and celebrate Christmas."

Grimmjow gaped at him. Like hell he was going to play buddy-buddy with him! What the hell are you on, Kurosaki?" Ichigo said, "Honestly, how the hell do you live if you don't celebrate Christmas? _That's_ what really pisses me off! Christmas is a forgiving time so I'll be willing to let go of our past encounters and all the crap you put me through just for a day. And then, things can go back to normal. But just for a day, let's let our shit slide and give me a—,"

Grimmjow kicked him across the street and into a store window. "Fuck that! Now stop being a little pussy and—!" and he reached for his sword and a hand closed around his sword arm. "What the—?!"

He turned and saw Ulquiorra standing behind him. "Come. We've dawdled long enough here. I have a decent report. Let's go." And before Grimmjow could protest, he was being pulled into the Garganta. Grimmjow wrenched his arm away and said, "Don't drag me, Ulquiorra. You got that? And don't _ever_ interrupt my fights again, you hear me?!" he yelled, suddenly more angry.

Ulquiorra continued walking. "I hear you considerably well, it is impossible not to. However that doesn't mean I care about what you have to say." Grimmjow shoved past him and walked ahead. He was infuriated by the nerve of that brat and by the nerve of the one behind him to interfere with his fight. Kurosaki actually thought he was going to stop fighting him because of some shitty holiday?! Fuck that. Fuck that very idea.

When they emerged from the Garganta, they were greeted by…what Grimmjow could only describe as eye-rape. Aizen's throne room was decorated with blue, green, and red lights and what looked like a giant pine tree sat by the throne. Gin and Tousen were on a ladder, throwing colored orbs and other things on it.

"What the hell is this?" Grimmjow scowled and Ulquiorra said, seemingly not too pleased about the festivities as well, "Christmas decorations." Grimmjow glared at him and said, "I know that, but why?"

Aizen said, "Ah, welcome back, you two. Now, now, don't look so unhappy. I took it upon myself to brighten up the place like we did back in the Soul Society when I was Captain. I can imagine my decorations look better than theirs, if it makes you feel better. Now, how was your report?"

And before Ulquiorra could explain, Aizen said, "Tousen, some music. Please." And Tousen said, "With pleasure, Aizen-sama." And he fumbled with a radio by the tree and began feeling for buttons. A minute of this went by. Aizen said, "Gin?" and Gin smiled and hopped over and hit the "power" button.

Christmas music began playing. Grimmjow's jaw clenched and he even heard Ulquiorra exhale somewhat impatiently. He had just escaped this festive crap in the human world, now he had to endure it here too? "Do I have to stand here much longer—Sir?" Grimmjow added and Aizen said, "Oh, yes, you may leave. Thank you for your cooperation, Grimmjow."

"Whatever, Sir." Grimmjow grumbled and he stomped outside and headed to his quarters. The hallways were decorated too, much to his displeasure. What was the point of celebrating Christmas with Hollows he thought angrily? When he reached his door, he wrenched decorations off of it and stomped inside and slammed the door. His quarters had been decorated too! Fuzzy green things were hanging along the walls and a small tree sat by his bed!

Without hesitation, Grimmjow flew up and ripped the green crap from his ceiling, Cero'ed his tree and smashed the radio playing Christmas music. He slumped against his bed, breathing in the soothing scent of the fake tree burning near his bed. It was quiet now. Just the way he liked it.

How the hell could people celebrate this holiday? He didn't even know why he hated it as much as he did. Perhaps because this holiday shoved its cheeriness down your throat even more so than the other human holidays, perhaps it was the stupid joy in the air that he just couldn't understand? He just didn't understand any of it!

What was it about this stupid holiday that even made enemies lay down their swords? He just didn't get this stupidity. It was just another day. How was this day so special? And before he knew it, he had begun to drift asleep…

* * *

And a few hours later, he was waking up. His eyes opened and he looked around the room. Something was wrong. He checked the clock. 9:59. He normally didn't wake up when he slept, not unless he felt something was off. He looked left and right. His room was dark, but he could sense nothing hiding within it.

He growled and turned over to face his door, tucking an arm beneath his head and—was that a face staring at him? Grimmjow jumped up right, his eyes wide as he stared at his doorknob.

Grimmjow wasn't by any means an easily frightened person. There was nothing at all he feared, except maybe being powerless. But there was something about seeing the face of one of his dead Fraccion staring blankly at him from the doorknob that was just…unsettling.

And just like that, Shawlong's face was gone from the doorknob. Grimmjow just sat there, his mouth hanging open and his eyes wider than dinner plates. And suddenly, he had this feeling that something was sitting behind him. He didn't move. And, angered that something like this was getting to him, he whipped around.

Nothing.

And this angered him greatly. Why was he jumping at shadows?! Grimmjow said, "Nnoitra, are you there?! Stop this shit and let me sleep!"

_Rattle._

He stopped breathing entirely as he heard it, a sound so distant he had to strain to hear it. He waited about 20 seconds before he heard it again. It was rattling…and the sounds of something being dragged across the floor. Something heavy.

He couldn't move.

The room was getting colder as the sounds grew louder. His instincts screamed at him to reach for Pantera as the sounds got louder and louder, closer and closer—a continuous chilling harmony of _draaaag, rattle, draaaaaaag, rattle, draaaaaaaaag, rattle, rattle, screeeeech—_

And then it stopped right outside his door.

And his door was thrown open so hard, it shattered against the wall and two massive stone blocks were hurled into his room and crashed to the ground, breaking through the stone floor! Grimmjow flung himself back, his hand grappling for his sword as a ghastly sight filled his vision.

What stood before him was both familiar and also blood chilling.

Shawlong stood before him, pale and wispy, his eyes dark and full of despair and stretched to accommodate the bags under his eyes, his mouth frighteningly elongated from years of frowning, hanging open to release a truly exhausted moan that was filled with all the suffering in the world. From his shoulders, down to his ankles were thick chains, two of which stretched to the stone blocks on the floor and connected back to his arms, which seemed to have stretched a few inches beyond their normal length from years of dragging them behind him. Amongst the chains were swords and various bones.

"Shawlong?!" Grimmjow exclaimed incredulously before he could stop himself, shocked beyond belief to see the other standing before him!

And he wailed, "Grimmjow!" All the hairs on his neck stood up as he heard his name on the cold tongue of his dead follower, his name which was once spoken with respect was now empty. "We were promised life when we stood by you! And you led us all to die! I trusted your judgment but if I had known what fate awaited me if I failed, I would never have gone along with your plans…I never should have…!" Shawlong lamented, his voice full of regret and sorrow.

Shawlong advanced into the room but was halted in his tracks by the massive blocks of stone and could go no further, but he still tried to reach him. "Why did serving you so faithfully condemn me to such a fate?" He asked, his voice broken and Grimmjow yelled, panicked, "Condemn you?! What are you saying?!"

"That is the best response you can give me? I understand you are shocked to see me, but try better than that." he said somewhat impatiently and Grimmjow exclaimed, pressing himself up against the wall, "What do you want me to say?"

"Never mind. You need not say anything. You just need to listen, as you always did. We need to speak quickly. I can feel that my time is nearly gone." the ghost said, beginning to calm from his emotional state and Grimmjow said, "Then sit down and tell me what is going on! Can you…sit down?" He added and pointed to the chair near his bed. And the ghost looked from him and then to the chair and said, "I'd imagine I might." His back sagging from the weight of the chains, he slowly made his way to the chair but couldn't reach it because of the stone blocks by the door.

Grimmjow slowly stood and, not taking his eyes off the ghastly man before him, nudged the chair over with his foot and Shawlong collapsed into it, the legs of the chair creaking dangerously. Grimmjow seated himself at the edge of the bed. Shawlong said tiredly, "Despite that it was your orders that caused my demise; I have to admit it brings me some peace to speak to you again, Grimmjow."

He was silent, unable to figure out why he wasn't panicking as badly as he should have been. Well for one thing, ghost or not, this was Shawlong and Grimmjow was familiar with him. If anything, it was the vibe of absolute misery emanating from him that unnerved him. Grimmjow said impatiently, "If you got killed that easily—," He paused. Answers were more important to him right now than trying to blame Shawlong for carelessly dying on him. "Alright. Firstly how can I see you?"

Shawlong said, "I myself am unsure of that. I have remained by your side for about a day now but you couldn't see me." Grimmjow suppressed a shudder, not liking that idea at all. "For you to suddenly be able to see me…that must mean something. I am not complaining however. For what I have to say is important."

Grimmjow just nodded. And then he said impatiently, "Wait so you didn't know I could see you and you still smashed my door to pieces? Never mind. You took your time getting here."

Shawlong wheezed, trying to sit further up. "I would have come sooner…if not for these chains. All these years I have dragged them along behind me. As the years have passed, they grew heavier and heavier, slowing me to the point where I feared death would take you before I had the chance to warn you…"

"Warn me?" Grimmjow said sharply. "Warn me of what?"

Shawlong said, "That when you die you will be cursed as I am, to roam the Earth eternally, dragging with you the weight of these chains. These chains upon my back mark each and every one of the horrors I have committed during my life as a Hollow and an Arrancar." His voice was laden with misery now, it was breathless and exhausted.

"I am doomed to carry these until I can walk no more, until my spine snaps beneath their weight. I have come to tell you what no one else could tell me and that is that for each victim I killed in your name, another chain was made and another, and another. Your chains are so much longer, heavier and thicker than mine and for every time you wrong another; another is thrown across your back."

Grimmjow listened with wide eyes, a chill running down his back. The idea was disturbing to him. Shawlong said coldly, "You do not believe me? Then I shall show you."

And suddenly, something was on his back and wrapping tightly around him and he could feel cold metal pressing against his neck and back! It was heavy, heavier than anything he'd ever felt and he was forced to the ground by its weight! He tried to yell but the weight pressing against him knocked the breath from his lungs! He tried to stand but his muscles burned from pushing against the weight trying to crush him into the floor! He seized a chain and began reeling it from his shoulders but the chain seemed to go on forever, making it impossible to remove! Grimmjow shouted up at the ghost above him, "Get them off of me!"

He was starting to panic now as he tried to stand again only to slump over yet again, his breathing was erratic and he struggled to sit up on his knees. After about a half minute he managed to sit upon his knees and the instant he did he felt a jerk on his wrists and looked down to find large stone balls on the floor, each connecting to his wrists.

He looked behind him and found two more stone blocks connected to chains that wound around his ankles and disappeared within the mass of chains on his back and neck. He couldn't take it. Was Shawlong right? Was this _hell_ what awaited him after he died? The idea was horrifying to him!

Grimmjow yelled, "Shawlong! You can't just come in here and tell this to me without offering me a way of saving myself, do you hear me?! Tell me there is a way to reverse this! Tell me!" Grimmjow shouted.

Shawlong said, "Reverse it? There is no reversing it, Grimmjow. The first thousand chains have already been thrown upon your back." Grimmjow's eyes widened and a feeling of horror washed over him. Shawlong said, "But…there is a way of lightening them. But only if you are willing to cooperate."

"Tell me!" Grimmjow ordered, his voice strained from trying to remain upright as the chains on his back threatened to pull him back down. Shawlong said, "Tonight you will be visited by three ghosts, each of which will appear upon the hour. If you can open your mind to what they will try to teach you before Christmas day, there will be hope for you."

Grimmjow said, "Christmas? But that's only hours away! Can't they all just come at once and be done with it?" and Shawlong released a terrible howl and Grimmjow fell back to floor. "Do not mock the guidance I am offering you! Three spirits, each at the chiming of a bell upon the hour! Do not throw away their lessons, Grimmjow! Keep them with you for the rest of your life if you wish to be saved! Do what I could not!"

"Okay, I'll do it! Just go away and get these damned chains off of me!" Grimmjow shouted, closing his eyes tightly. He didn't want to see anymore of the miserable spirit above him, he didn't want to be reminded of what would happen to himself and he also didn't want to accept that he was the cause of both Shawlong's suffering and his own eventual suffering."Learn from them, Grimmjow…Learn for the both of us."

And Grimmjow heard him heading for the window. Grimmjow's eyes opened and he croaked, "Where are you going?" Shawlong wrenched on the massive stone block at his feet and said, "To join the others. Perhaps you should come and see them." And the chains were gone from Grimmjow and he scrambled to his feet and looked out his window into the desert.

Countless wailing, tormented creatures were outside, all of them carrying chains around their shoulders. Grimmjow swore he recognized all of the Adjuchas that could be seen wailing within the crowd, their heads thrown back as they stared mournfully up at the crescent moon. They were most likely the ones he had eaten during his quest for power. "You never see them, but they are there every day. All around the halls of this place. They cannot even be seen by Hollows. They exist to suffer the guilt they refused to or could not feel both during their life as Hollows and as humans. Grimmjow, don't let yourself become one of them. You were always better than that."

And Grimmjow felt the urge to speak now, those words reminding him of when Shawlong and the others made him their King. Shawlong was right; he had always been the better out of the group, never giving up when the others did. He had always been more powerful, too.

But a King was not a King without his subordinates. Grimmjow had never forgotten that, even if he had insisted their deaths meant nothing to him. He had told himself that if they were killed so easily, they weren't worthy of being around him. But in all honestly, that had been a fucking lie.

Grimmjow said, "Listen, all right? I didn't mean for you all to die…you know that. I thought you guys were stronger than that, I honestly didn't expect—Shawlong?" and when Grimmjow turned, the ghost of his Fraccion had vanished, leaving him alone in the dark.

"I won't become one of them. _That_ I can promise." He said determinedly and beside him, his clock chimed 10:00. He shivered. He could still feel those chains around him.

* * *

Firstly I apologize if some characters seem ooc. I honestly don't write any characters other than Grimmjow and Ulquiorra so bear with me lol.

I hope this will be a good story. The idea just came out of nowhere and I just started writing stuff down and edited it as well as I could. i want it finished before Christmas but if that doesn't happen that's alright. I hope whoever is reading this will enjoy my retelling of a Christmas Carol and I hope I don't ruin it lol.

I'll have the next chapter up soon! Thanks for reading!

And yes, there will be GrimmUlqui later I promise, haha.


	2. Chapter 2

**Part 2: The first ghost**

And Grimmjow awoke with a gasp to find himself entangled within his bed sheets. He struggled, eager to be free of them after feeling the weight of those cold, heavy chains. And he paused in his movements. _Was it…all some nightmare? _He thought. He sat up and looked around the room. There was no sign that Shawlong had been here, the door was intact and the floor was unbroken.

He scratched his head. _The hell is this? Guess this "Christmas" shit really fucked up my head…_But something screamed at him that it hadn't been a dream, though he was doubtful because of how normal everything seemed right now. He fell back against the blankets and stared up at the ceiling.

_What the hell was that fucked up shit? _He thought, scowling.

It had been a while since he had thought of the day his Fraccion died. He still honestly didn't know what to think about it. They hadn't been his friends, he didn't believe in friendship and he didn't have time for it. But he hadn't been exactly happy to find out that they had gotten killed so quickly.

And a loud chime filled the room and he jumped. The sound had come from the miniature grandfather clock on his bedside table. That clock wasn't supposed to be working; he had taken it apart one night after its hourly chiming woke him up, but in a way that it still worked but it made no noise. So why was it making noise—? And Grimmjow remembered Shawlong's words.

_"Three spirits, each at the chiming of a bell."_

"Fuck." Grimmjow spat and he pulled his pillow over his head and turned over with a snarl. He was _so_ not in the mood for this shit. Not at 10:00 at night! And through his closed eyelids, he saw a light. _What the hell? _He opened his eyes and through the sheets he could see a bright light shining ahead of him. He wrenched back his sheets and said, "Turn off that damn light before I—_ugh_!" and he flung up a hand to shield his eyes as a figure stepped into view.

He squinted, his scowling face scrunched up as he attempted to make out who exactly was shining that obnoxious light into his face! "Greetings, Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez." said a calm female voice that Grimmjow could vaguely recognize.

"Turn out the light, woman!" he snapped, closing his eyes as blotches of purple and green and orange began to bounce back and forth across his vision. "Very well. So I shall. Give me a moment." and the light dimmed momentarily only to instantly brighten and Grimmjow groaned and put his arm over his eyes.

"Hmm. This is more difficult than it looks. There." and Grimmjow removed his arm from his eyes. His guess had been correct. Before him stood Tier Harribel wearing a long pointed extinguisher of a hat that was vaguely glowing and a flowing, white gown that would occasionally sparkle.

"Great. Why are you here, Harribel? You in on this gig too?" he asked impatiently, sitting back on the bed and knowing he could trust her enough to relax around her. From what he knew of her, she wasn't violent unless provoked. She said, "I am not Harribel. I am the Ghost of Christmases come to pass. I expect you address me as such in this situation."

"Whatever you say." Grimmjow mumbled.

_We're going back to the past? Is it…my past? I'm not sure I really want her going through my history like it's her own little personal journal that if it really is my past she's talking about. _

"You seem rather calm tonight. You seem to have quite a history of being a power hungry brute." She noted and Grimmjow said, "Enough about my history. Why are you here?"

"Isn't it obvious?" she asked, her voice smooth. "I am here to take you back to the past. Your past, Jaegerjaquez."

Grimmjow instantly didn't quite like the sound of that. "I already know everything there is to know about myself, Woman. I've been here my whole life, what could I possibly know that I don't already?" He asked. Harribel said, "Do you really know all there is to know? If that were the case, I certainly would not be here."

She crossed to the window and as she approached, the window opened for her. "Come. We have many things to see and little time to do so, Jaegerjaquez." And she extended a hand. Grimmjow stared skeptically at her. "Come." and Grimmjow, remembering Shawlong's advice to him decided to momentarily put his pride aside and reached out and took her hand.

"Where are we going anyway?"

"Up. Hold on tight." and before Grimmjow could protest they had both shot out the window and were flying across the desert! As they traveled quickly through the desert Grimmjow said, "Where to now?" Harribel said, "To one of your more recent Christmases." Grimmjow was confused. "I never celebrated that holiday."

"No, you didn't." she said, looking around the desert. "But by the time you were an Adjuchas it was Christmas." She looked around and said, "We're here. We are in the past." Grimmjow was skeptical of that. But then again, everything in Heuco Mundo looked the same, nothing changed except the creatures in it. And they both stopped mid-flight and looked down below.

Harribel said, "There you are." And Grimmjow looked down below. Grimmjow could see what must have been himself as an Adjuchas…they had gone that far back? He didn't like this already; he didn't need to look back at old memories of himself like this. He had evolved for a reason and now he was being forced to look back on something he viewed as none important. On a side note, he had no idea he looked so cat-like in that form!

"Don't pout. We're here for a reason." The ghost reminded him and Grimmjow just shrugged.

Beneath them, a panther-like Adjuchas had just climbed free from the sand and shook its armor-like pelt. It threw back its head and let out a howl. To anyone it might have sounded mournful. But to Grimmjow, all he could remember was the feeling of victory at having come so far and evolved so much. And the creature tore off across the desert in search of prey.

Grimmjow could remember the thoughts running through his head. He had made it this far, he wasn't about to lose and regress back into weak prey. _They _were prey now. And this place was his hunting grounds. He _deserved_ to evolve, he had proved that. He was stronger. He was better.

He could _not_ lose!

Those feelings had stuck with him even to this day, nothing had changed. They watched as Grimmjow took chunks out of any Adjuchas he came across. Harribel said, "You were an Adjuchas for a long time. There is much to skip over." Grimmjow watched himself. "What?" Harribel inquired.

Grimmjow said, "Do you know how it felt to feel like I was the strongest of my kind? It was absolutely enthralling." Harribel said somewhat distastefully, "Yes, I'd imagine it must have been incredible for you. But there will always be others stronger."

"Doesn't matter. It never mattered." Grimmjow said, feeling a grin lifting his lips. "Because when I break them, they won't be." Harribel sighed as she watched him devour yet another Adjuchas and she said, "Come. We have more to see than this." And Grimmjow turned his gaze away from himself as he ran through the desert alone.

As he turned around however, he was greeted with a different scene. It was the day he had met Shawlong and the other Adjuchas, Di Roy, Yylfordt, Nakeem, and Edrad. They both watched as Grimmjow took a bite out of the side of Di Roy's head. They watched as the group of Gillian and Adjuchas bowed to him in recognition of his strength.

Grimmjow became their leader and it was a moment he would never forget. Being strong enough to take on any Adjuchas he came across was one thing—but to become a _king_ was another. His strength was unquestionable now! The feelings of excitement were racing through him again, the feeling that he could take on the world and that there was no one to stop him was akin to an adrenaline rush.

Harribel spoke and Grimmjow jumped slightly, having forgotten she was here, "I'd imagine that was quite an ego-boast." She said tonelessly, watching the group tear away across the desert.

"Quite? _Quite_? I was unstoppable!" Grimmjow exclaimed, a grin on his face. "I wasn't just an Adjuchas, I was a King! A _King_!" Harribel just nodded her head, a frown on her face. "Yes. But what is a King if he has no one to command?" and Grimmjow looked over, annoyed that she was questioning him. "What do you—?"

"We're giving up, Grimmjow." said Shawlong. And the panther stopped walking. "What?" he asked. Shawlong said, "I said we're giving up. We could no longer feel our powers growing after we ate our 100th Hollow. Our evolution stops here."

So they were giving up, after all of this?

They were _giving_ up?

"Cowards. You're free to go die in a ditch for all I care." Grimmjow snarled, beginning to pad away through the sand. Grimmjow remembered what happened next.

"Eat us before you go."

Grimmjow stopped walking. He could remember not even once having the thought to eat them and that was what was strange to him. It has as if he had believed them to be…companions of some sort.

But he did it anyway. He ate pieces from his five followers. He remembered the anger flowing through him as he did and he could remember feeling bitter disappointment from the fact that they had given up so easily. Despite that he had no followers, he kept his title and anyone who questioned it was instant prey.

Harribel said, "You still ate them even though they were your companions?" Grimmjow said, "…They weren't. They were my followers." _For just "followers" I spent a decent amount of time talking to them…didn't I? _He shook the thought away. "What is the point in that?" Harribel asked and Grimmjow could feel himself getting defensive. "If they were gonna quit so easily, they weren't worth shit to me. They weren't going to progress; they would have slowed me down. I had every reason to do what I did."

Harribel sighed. "If you say so. But you were no more a King after that than a—,"

"Shut up."

_You don't need to tell me that, _Grimmjow thought angrily. Who did this woman think she was anyway? Questioning him in his own memory!

"You weren't lonely?" she asked. "Tearing through everyone you hate…does rather sound like a lonely way to be, does it not?" Grimmjow's brow furrowed. As much as he hated to admit it, there was some truth in those words…but _only_ some. And it wasn't like he was about to stop. He had to move forward and defend his title. He wasn't about to allow some punk-ass kid to look at him like he was inferior. He had come too far for that kind of bullshit treatment.

"No. It doesn't."

He couldn't get over how quiet his paw steps were without the sounds of others behind him.

He had no reason to be lonely. None at all.

Right?

He could remember asking himself what kind of king he was.

After all, what was a king if he had no one to rule over?

"Are we gonna sit around here all night? I've seen all I need to see." Grimmjow asked and Harribel said, "Oh not at all, Jaegerjaquez, not at all. Come with me." And she turned and began to walk away.

Grimmjow watched himself walk away until he reached the top of a sand dune. _What is a king if he has no one to rule over? _He asked himself. And he wasn't sure how to respond. And he bared his teeth in a growl. He didn't like this. He didn't like questioning himself like this. And he did not like Harribel for making him question himself like this.

And on that note he answered himself. It was a forced answer. But it was better than nothing.

_A king is a king if he says he is._

It was probably the worst answer, but it was the kind he wanted.

_God dammit…why am I hiding from myself? Have I always done this? Fuck it, never mind. _He thought, brushing the thought aside as Harribel said, "Are you coming, we have more to see of your past?"

And to his surprise, she opened a Garganta and said, "Follow me." Grimmjow couldn't imagine where they were going. He didn't have any prominent memories in the human world—unless she wanted to analyze his fights with Kurosaki or something…

"What's to see there?"

"Lots of things," Harribel replied, a gleam in her amber eyes, "Like your childhood for instance."

"My…_what_?" Grimmjow said, not sure he had heard right. How could anyone have access to his memories as a human? Harribel beckoned with a swish of her hand and led the way down the dark tunnel. Grimmjow followed without hesitation. He was willing to bet this was some kind of joke. There was no way he was about go back to the days of his life as a human!

"Woman, this isn't—," Grimmjow began and they emerged and Grimmjow found himself staring down upon a snow covered…town? The houses were all made of wood. They had clearly gone far back in time, the houses all looked traditional of old Japan and the clothing did, too. "Where are we?" he asked, wanting confirmation before he believed anything.

"Tokyo," Harribel explained. "The year is 1920. You were born and raised here until the day of your death. It is Christmas day, though it was hardly celebrated during these time periods. Come, we need to get moving," and they both flew away across the sky. As they flew they passed children frolicking in the snow beneath them. "How do people play in that stuff? It's cold." He grumbled.

Harribel said, "Have you ever tried it?"

"No, and you won't catch me doing it either." Grimmjow said quickly not even able to imagine himself doing it without cringing.

"If you aren't willing to try it, don't question why others like it." Harribel said and Grimmjow just shrugged. "Yeah whatever you say." Harribel stopped flying and Grimmjow suddenly realized that when she stopped, he was forced to stop, too. Now that they weren't moving at top speed he could get a look at the houses around him. And they were very odd looking.

All of the shop's signs were blurry and some buildings had missing windows. Oddest of all, the faces of everyone outside were blurred and the ones that weren't looked rather alike and simple looking. "Oi, what's up with the visuals? Is something broken?" he asked as they landed, watching a faceless child walk by. Harribel said, "Not at all. Your memory is hazy. The things that _are _important won't be, however."

Aside from the "memory-haze" it was apparent that this side of Tokyo was not at all the wealthiest area, if there had been one at all during those times. But in any case it was obvious this area was more rundown than other areas. There was a considerable number of homeless cluttering the streets and the homes themselves looked dreary. Grimmjow himself certainly wouldn't have wanted to live here.

Grimmjow looked down the street and realized that beyond this row of houses, most of the area was foggy. He supposed that meant he couldn't remember that area very well. Harribel said somewhat impatiently, "The interesting things are in here." And Grimmjow walked over at a leisurely pace, ignoring her tone. He walked to the window and they both stepped through it and entered the house.

The house was dank and rather depressing looking. The wooden walls looked like they were beginning to rot from the continuous snow; there was a draft, too. There also wasn't much lighting. All in all, it was a very gloomy setting. He could make out raised voices suddenly and a door banged open upstairs and a woman raced downstairs, clearly distraught. A man stormed down after her, yelling, "I've seen you around that man you little whore!" His voice was slurred and he walked with a slight stagger and had to clutch onto the railing to prevent from tripping on the last step.

"You think I'm blind, that I don't know what you're up to!"

She seized a flower pot by the door and hurled it at him but missed and it crashed against the wall beside his head. He turned a fierce glare on her and Grimmjow realized the color of his eyes were nearly the exact same shade as his own, but darker. There was pure rage in his eyes. "You fucking…" he snarled and he stormed towards her, a bottle that Grimmjow hadn't noticed before raising above his head threateningly as he approached his sobbing wife.

And a gasp was heard from somewhere in the room in that moment of deathly silence, nearly muffled by the angry footfalls of the man. He turned towards the closet and Grimmjow stepped forward to get a better look.

The door was wrenched open and a little boy was seized by the arm and pulled from the closet, the skin around his arm turned red from the contact. "Ow, ow, ow!" he whimpered, fear in his eyes as his father wrenched him towards him. "How long have you been in there, hmm?" he growled.

His son stammered, looking towards his mother for help but she glared at him and looked away, wiping tears from her eyes. Grimmjow felt odd watching this, he felt like he was intruding on something personal and normally he never felt that way. He felt…unpleasant watching this.

The father shook his son by the arm and spat, "Answer me!" and when his son attempted to free himself; he was hit hard across the face. "Get the fuck outta here." The man sneered. "And when you leave, you aren't gonna go to school and tell anyone that daddy hits mommy, do you understand me? _Do you_?!"

"Y-yes, daddy!" he gasped and his father tossed him aside.

The child's eyes were full of fearful tears. And they were the same color blue as his eyes. The only thing different about him, was his hair, it was pitch black. And Grimmjow came to the hard realization. That fearful, crying child was himself…and those…things were his parents. Harribel said, "Horrible, isn't it?" and Grimmjow was silent.

So…this was his childhood. He honestly didn't know why he was so surprised. He had never expected any different. But there was something about this—watching his younger self suffer and knowing he didn't have the strength he did now to defend himself that set off a strange reaction within him. It was anger, a feeling he was all too familiar with…but also something else, something that made him just want to burst in and hurt the person attacking his younger self. His lip curled in annoyance. _What is this damned feeling? _He thought, his eyes narrowing as he watched his father stomp away from his son and take a swig from the bottle in his hand.

Young Grimmjow turned towards his mother and made to run to her but she stood before he could go to her for comfort and when he whimpered in fear, she shot a fearful look at his father and whispered, "Go to school. _Now_." And she left the house, leaving him staring after her, too afraid to move as his father grumbled sinisterly behind him.

Harribel was watching him. "Feeling sorry?" Grimmjow was jolted out of his thoughts.

"I wouldn't know. In case you've forgotten, I'm a Hollow. I'm not capable of feeling empathy."

Harribel said, "You are a Hollow. But you also have Shinigami powers so technically, aren't we rather half and half? Truly Espada are not capable of feeling pure empathy, or anything else, for others. Be we are not without feeling, Grimmjow."

Grimmjow said, "I know that." He was well aware that they were not without feelings. They could very well feel things, maybe not very nice things by human's standards, not that he cared about the standards of humans anyway. But they could all feel despair, anger, frustration, bleakness. _Maybe_ he was capable of sympathy, he didn't know.

Maybe that was what he was feeling here for himself?

Maybe.

Harribel said, "Let's go. Your young self just left for school." And they both headed towards the door. "Well at least I toughened it out enough to get outta that shithole." Grimmjow said, watching himself move through a sea of blurry faces, wiping his eyes and occasionally rubbing his arm. Harribel was silent.

They passed more somewhat mismatched buildings and title-less shops and blurry faces and eventually arrived at the school building. Here they followed Young Grimmjow through the crowd of children saying goodbye to their parents as they began to head inside the school. Young Grimmjow watched with a saddened expression and Grimmjow muttered, "Come on, don't look like that. You wouldn't want your parents here!"

Harribel said, "He would very much like his parents to be here. Though preferably different ones." Grimmjow leaned against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. "That's stupid. He should be happy to have a break from them."

"He's a child, Grimmjow." Harribel said and Grimmjow noticed that she called him by his first name. "He sees these parents lovingly standing with their children, and he is reminded of what he doesn't have. Maybe the older you would be happier to be away, but this one is just longing for comfort and the embrace he won't be given."

"Alright, I get it." Grimmjow said, frowning as he watched the little boy head into school alone. Grimmjow followed and Harribel said, "Where to?"

"I wanna see what my school life was like." Grimmjow said but when he entered the building, he found himself stepping into what seemed to be a yard. "Hey, what—?" Harribel said, "He doesn't remember anything up until this point." Children ran back and forth across the yard, throwing snow at each other. Grimmjow searched for himself and then remember he didn't have his blue hair and began searching the small crowds of black haired children in search of himself. _Where'd I get my hair color anyway? _He thought as he searched.

As a crowd moved away, he could see himself sitting alone. Most children that sat on the sides were eating lunch or talking. His child self didn't even have a lunch with him. And neither, he noticed did another child. He too sat alone, ripping up grass with a scowl on his little face. "Why don't I go talk to that kid? He's all by himself." Grimmjow said, glaring at his child self and then frowning when he noticed the tears building in the boy's blue eyes.

"Fuck, not here, kid. Toughen it up!" Grimmjow snapped. The other kid suddenly said, "And why are you all by yourself? Nobody want you?" Young Grimmjow ignored him, pulling his knees up to his chest. "Hey, can you talk?" the other boy asked loudly. Young Grimmjow nodded his head.

"Then say something!" the boy snapped. Young Grimmjow looked over at him and then back at the ground. "No." he said tearfully. "If I don't wanna talk, I don't have to." The boy noticed the tears in his eyes and said, "What are you crying about anyway? Boys aren't supposed to cry."

"I'm not!" Young Grimmjow snapped, rubbing his eyes. The other one said, "What kind of boy are you if you're sitting here crying? What a loser! Get up! I know something that'll toughen you out!" and he walked over and seized Grimmjow by the arm and Grimmjow wrenched him away and said, "I'm not a loser! Leave me alone."

"Follow me! I'll help you stop being a cry baby." Curious, Young Grimmjow hesitantly followed him. The older boy led him away from the school and Harribel and Grimmjow followed behind them. Young Grimmjow asked, "Uh…where are we going? We're not supposed to leave school."

"No one cares, its fine! It doesn't look like anyone back there will miss you anyway. Get a move on." And he ran ahead and called, "Hurry up, loser!" Young Grimmjow said, "Stop it! I'm hurrying!" and he ran after him. Grimmjow scowled. "That kid's a dick." And Harribel said, "He comes from the same type of family, growing up for him was not easy as well."

"I should have punched him out." Grimmjow mumbled, moving through a log in pursuit of his child self. As they walked, the boy that walked with Young Grimmjow asked him to do various things, the reason behind them being to "toughen" him up. He asked Grimmjow to climb up a log, slippery with ice, and then to climb back down without falling or sliding down which he had to do twice. Anything the other boy saw that looked remotely challenging he asked Grimmjow to do, but there weren't many things.

The last thing he had Grimmjow do was jump across a small stream which was easily done but he slipped a little on the bank across from him and was ordered to do it again. "But why?" Young Grimmjow asked impatiently, taking a running jump to the other side and back. "Because, if you want to be my friend, you need to be tough." said the boy. "And you want to be my friend, right?" he asked, his tone angry. Young Grimmjow nodded hesitantly and followed him, shivering slightly in the cold.

"Why did I do everything he said? Was I that desperate for company?" Grimmjow asked angrily, annoyed that his younger self was so easily ordered around. Harribel said, "You were young." Grimmjow said, "Yeah but I didn't expect myself to be such a suck up!"

They had returned to the streets now and the boy led him up to a rundown looking house. A small group of four young boys were waiting for Grimmjow and the boy outside it. The boy leading Grimmjow stopped and waved hello to the group ahead of them and grabbed Grimmjow's arm and said, "Come on! This is the final test and then you can be in our group!"

The boy led Grimmjow to the house and said, "You need to go inside and get the birdcage on the writing desk by the door." Young Grimmjow said. "Me? Why not you?"

"Because I said so!" the boy snapped and he pushed Grimmjow towards the window and said, "This window's weak, throw a stone at it and go inside and get the birdcage! But be careful. My dad won't like it if he sees you." The boy said, his tone mocking as if he wanted to scare him.

Young Grimmjow looked from the boys to the window and bit his lower lip, not sure what to do. "I can be your friend if I do this?" he asked and the boy said, "Yeah, but you need to do it." And young Grimmjow seized a stone from the ground and threw it at the window, breaking it before two of the boys helped him up through the window.

Grimmjow toppled to the floor and looked around. The room was empty and he looked for the birdcage and spotted it in the same place the boy said it would be and hurried quietly to it, picked it up and moved to the door before sliding it open and hurrying outside with the little bird stumbling about in the cage.

"I did it! Now am I in your group?" young Grimmjow asked excitedly, setting the birdcage down and looking eagerly at the boys. The leader of the boys said, "Not yet." And he opened the cage and reached into it, grabbing the frightened bird so that its head stuck out from his closed fist. He shoved it at Grimmjow and said, "Hold it." And confused, Grimmjow quickly took it before it could fly away.

He hurried inside and emerged with a hammer in his fist and handed it to the young Grimmjow. Grimmjow sighed, knowing exactly what the boys wanted him to do. "Fuckin' hell kid, don't listen to them."

Young Grimmjow's face fell and he looked from the hammer to the little bird in his hand and the boy said, "Hit it in the head. And then crush its body with it! Then you can be one of us!" Young Grimmjow said, "I…I can't! I…I um…I need to go home now! I'll do this later! I promise!"

"No, you'll do it now!" the boy yelled. "Or are you a cry baby?"

"But…" Young Grimmjow's eyes had filled with tears. "Don't cry! Do it!" the boy yelled. "Or I'll hit you!" Grimmjow scowled, silently ordering his younger self to walk away. _Come on, kid. Walk away, walk away! _And young Grimmjow pressed the bird against the ground, lifting the hammer above his its head, feeling its heart beating rapidly against his fist and feeling its wing's twitching as it attempted to free itself.

"Do it, do it!" the leader of the boys shouted and the others joined it. Young Grimmjow brought the hammer down on the little bird's head, crushing its skull instantly. "Crush its body!" one of them shouted and young Grimmjow did as he was told, hitting the dead animal's body with the hammer once and then twice before breaking down into tears.

The boy grew angry and kicked him in the face. "Stop it! I told you not to cry! Look at the little baby crying!" he said, laughing while his gang watched, joining in with the teasing when they were ordered to. Before the crying Grimmjow could recover, one of the boys, seemingly encouraged by the fact that his teasing made their leader happy, ran forward and kicked him in the stomach.

"Come on! Get up and fight you little weakling!" the leader shouted, kicking his arm. Grimmjow watched with wide eyes, an expression of anger on his face. Beneath that anger however was something else; a feeling of helplessness and that feeling of loneliness that he'd felt while watching himself move through the desert alone was amplified.

"Didn't I have anyone? At _all_? A posse at least to teach these guys a lesson?" he asked, watching himself try and defend himself, only to collapse against the floor, covering his face in his hands as the boys beat down on him. Harribel said, "I'd have thought you'd remark on how naive you were to believe them, how strange of you." Grimmjow snapped, "Look woman, I was a kid! I wasn't the person I am today, I was a _kid_! I did everything they asked me to and they _still _beat the hell out of me! _They're_ the ones that should have been hurt! I did _fine_! And you know what; I want you to stop _analyzing_ this shit and answer my question!"

Harribel said, her tone calm but sadness tinting the edges of her voice, "After this incident you distanced yourself from other people. You stopped allowing yourself to feel sadness and picked fights with the children in your school that so much as looked at you improperly. Because of this, no one wanted to befriend you and I think you stopped caring if they did or not."

He said bitterly, turning away from the fight, "No. You can bet your _ass _I didn't stop caring. I should have had friends. I should have had _mountains_ of them! _They're_ the ones who didn't deserve them!" Grimmjow's voice had risen and he was beginning to feel the absolute unfairness of it all seeping into his chest. He had grown so angry, his fists were shaking.

But this wasn't the kind anger he was used to. There was something beyond this anger, it was a feeling that clutched at something inside his chest and he knew there was only one thing that feeling could be. He felt sorry for the boy lying betrayed in the snow. He did. He felt _sorry_ for himself and that he had never found anyone to save him from the life of despair and anger ahead of him.

He said his voice hard, "I don't want to see anymore. Not of this." Harribel turned towards him and said, "Very well. We shall see another Christmas." And the world whizzed by them in a blur of speed and color, leaving behind his younger self lying crumpled in the snow, and before he knew it, they were both standing before a Dojo, snow falling thick and fast around the small building. Noises were coming from within, though the building was not supposed to be inhabited at this hour in the morning. Grimmjow could guess he and a bunch of others had broken in.

"I can just imagine what I'm doing here." Grimmjow said, smirking as he approached the window and Harribel followed him. Inside, he could see a clearly much older Grimmjow (probably in his teens) fighting not with his teacher but rather with the students. A crowd of them had gathered to watch Grimmjow face off against a much taller student.

However it was clear Grimmjow was more experienced and with a few well aimed kicks and hits, his opponent was down and the crowd went wild around him.

"It seems like I got some popularity." Grimmjow said. Harribel said, "You were popular amongst the fighting crowd, yes. But not all popularity is friendship." Grimmjow scowled.

The Grimmjow within the crowd shouted, "Does anyone else feel like challenging me? Or has my beating this pig made you rethink it? I've proven my point! No one looks down on me! Is that clear?!" and the people within the crowd very hastily nodded and praised him before quickly leaving. Grimmjow watched them leave, his angered scowl fading to be replaced by a smug look before he removed his foot from the knocked out man's head.

Finally those punks were out of his hair. They were a little gang within the school he went to and ever since day one they had been trying to ruffle his feathers. Finally, their "leader" had succeeded in doing so by pulling a surprise attack on him in the halls, catching him by surprise and humiliating him in front of the whole school. _That_ was when he decided that no one fucked with him and got away with it.

He invited them to the Dojo which was where he worked on a near daily basis early in the morning to fight it out. And of course, he had won. He had known he would, but it was still _so _satisfying. He stood and left the Dojo and headed towards his school.

The way his family life was like right now made him happy schools were open on Christmas, which he was incredibly grateful for. Anything was better than being stuck at home with his parents. Just the idea made him gnash his teeth. He headed inside, pushing his way through the crowd and ignoring the people glaring at him as he broke free and headed to his class.

He was the first into his class—or so he thought. An older teen sat by the window, his face turned away from view to stare out the window beside him. Grimmjow stepped further into the class and scowled when he realized it was nearly as cold in the school as it was outside. "Fuck." He grumbled, heading to the seat by the other. "I can't stand this damn cold weather." He muttered, falling into his seat beside the other teen.

"I find it to be soothing." The man's voice was soft, almost velvety. In fact, the voice was oddly familiar to Grimmjow…it almost sounded like…

"Wow. Seriously?" Grimmjow asked, turning towards the one beside him. "It is cold, but I find it relaxing. Like rain. I prefer it to hot days." And the man's face turned towards him and Grimmjow felt his mouth fall open when he realized who it was sitting beside his past self.

It was Ulquiorra Cifer!

"Holy fuck." Grimmjow whispered. Ulquiorra looked nearly identical to how he did now, everything about him was the same except his skin wasn't pale, he was fair skinned but not without color and he also wore glasses. There was a different air about him. The air around the Ulquiorra Grimmjow knew was brooding, heavy and cold. He had a more…human air about him.

"What the hell is he doing here?" Grimmjow said, shocked. Harribel said, "He's here because you knew him." Grimmjow said, "That's obvious but—I never thought we had history!" Harribel said with a small spark in her eyes, "I can tell. And you told me you knew everything there was to know about your past."

Grimmjow said, "Yeah well that was before I knew you had access to my human memories." He turned his gaze back to his teenage self and the teenaged Ulquiorra, unable to believe that he was here. He scowled, just waiting for Ulquiorra to say something to aggravate him.

But he never did. Instead, something different happened. Yes, Ulquiorra did occasionally throw jibes at him, but Grimmjow threw them back in earnest but in a much calmer way than he should have.

"This weather fucking kills people! When I was a kid, I saw some guy fall through a patch of ice!" Grimmjow exclaimed. "How can you like it?!

Ulquiorra said, "It is not the weather that kills people. It is the foolishness of people that kills them. I'd imagine you'd like this kind of weather, considering the kind of chaos I've seen you get into at this school. You behave brutishly."

"Hey, those guys you see me beat up had it coming to them alright?" Grimmjow snapped, that comment annoying him. "You don't know me, so don't try and label me when you don't even know why I do what I do. Got it?"

"I meant no offense. I was merely stating a fact." Ulquiorra said and it seemed he meant it. Grimmjow noticed this. "Huh. That's a first." He said. "What, someone pointing out you're a brute?" Ulquiorra asked and Grimmjow let out a bark of laughter. "Fuck no. I get that all the time. I mean that's the first time someone actually insulted me and didn't mean to insult me."

Ulquiorra stared at him, seemingly trying to decipher that. "It wasn't an insult because I didn't mean it as an insult but rather as a fact. You just took it as an insult."

"Yeah, alright, whatever. Fuck, you're giving me a headache, kid." Grimmjow grumbled. Ulquiorra reached for a book on his desk, seemingly assuming the discussion was over. Grimmjow said, "Hey, you new here or something? I've never seen you before." Ulquiorra looked at him, his green eyes seeming to say "Are you stupid?"

Ulquiorra said, "I've been here the entire year."

"What?" Grimmjow said, looking at him doubtfully. "You sure? What are you, invisible or somethin'?" Ulquiorra said, "There's a difference between being blind and being invisible, can you guess which one accounts to yourself?"

"Well shit, ain't my fault you're practically the wall." Grimmjow said, smirking at him. Ulquiorra said, "I prefer not to mingle with people. " Grimmjow said, "Why, normal people too good for you?" Ulquiorra said, "Hardly. I just prefer it that way." Grimmjow said quickly, "Same here."

They both looked at one another in something akin to surprise. "I won't ask why." Ulquiorra said, reaching for his book. Grimmjow said, "I don't really care if you do. God knows I need to vent."

Ulquiorra said almost jokingly, "Judging by what I've seen happen when you do get angry, perhaps it is best for the sake of the furniture in this room that I don't probe."

Grimmjow cracked a grin. He couldn't recall the last time he'd done that when not picking fights. "Heh. I got better things to do than beat up chairs."

"People, then?"

"Ah, not unless they give me a hard time."

"A lot of people seem to do that, then." Ulquiorra noted.

Grimmjow said, "Tough shit. Hey, you know all this crap about me. What have you been doing, watching me?" He asked, crossing his arms on Ulquiorra's desk and resting his chin on his arm. Ulquiorra looked down at Grimmjow's head on his desk, frowning slightly. Grimmjow lifted his head and leaned back in his chair, not in a hurry to be asked to leave.

This guy was a _blast_ to talk to!

"Why are we _talking_? I'm supposed to hate him!" Grimmjow said, completely confused about why they were interacting so well when they couldn't so much as look at one another in the present day. Harribel said, "It shouldn't be that hard to figure out, Grimmjow. Both you and himself have been alone nearly all your lives. Don't you think it was about time you've spoken to someone?"

"Yeah but of all people…We're talking like we've known one another our whole lives!" Grimmjow said. Harribel said, "That's what happens. Sometimes, people just click when they meet. In this case, it was your loneliness that brought you together." Grimmjow just couldn't understand it. Maybe they'd start fighting shortly after class, they had to. There was no way he and Ulquiorra could hit it off so quickly when they could barely even look at one another without contempt.

Ulquiorra was the first one out and Grimmjow followed. Ulquiorra looked over his shoulder and Grimmjow said, "And where are you heading?" Ulquiorra said, "English class, and then I am heading off to several others." Grimmjow nodded. "Heading home afterwards to celebrate the holidays?" he asked. Ulquiorra shook his head. "My mother doesn't approve of the holidays. She doesn't see any point to them."

"I've never been one for them either. My parents certainly never gave a damn." Grimmjow said, stuffing his hands into his pockets. They chatted all the way to class and all Grimmjow could do was stare in wonder and mild annoyance. How was it possible he was getting along so well with a man he couldn't stand?

_It ain't exactly like I ever gave him a chance in the present day. Here we have something to relate to, it seems. Maybe that's why we're getting along so easily. We're different people now. This Ulquiorra I'm seeing…is very different. What the hell happened to him anyway?_

It was suddenly a very important question to him. What had happened to Ulquiorra? Here he was mysterious and distant but he carried a friendly air about him. But in the present, he was nihilistic, cold…

_We became Hollows, that's what happened. We lost our hearts. We lost contact with everything that makes a human a human. And even with everything I know about what we are, I still could never understand the bastard. I could never understand why he does the things he does, what he's thinking, why he barely fights unless he has to. I couldn't imagine going a day without finding some way to better my strength. But he…he never fights unless he's ordered to. It's like he's denying his basic instincts. What does that make him then? He's no coward…_

_Why am I asking myself so many questions? _His brow furrowed. That was a good point. Why was he suddenly asking himself so many questions about his superior? He supposed that, in a way, he had always been…curious about him. About why did the things he did, why he stabbed particular opponents that caught his attention in the same place his Hollow hole was, why he constantly looked like he was crying and most of all why he lived and did everything Grimmjow couldn't bring himself to do, bowing down to a Shinigami in particular.

Harribel's voice cut him out of his thoughts, "Come, there is more to see." Grimmjow watched himself and Ulquiorra walk away down the halls together, still engage in conversation. "Yeah, sure." He said absentmindedly.

And the world short forward in a blur of color and Grimmjow asked, "Where are we going?" Harribel said, "We're going forward by two years. It's about time I showed you a Christmas that actually made you happy."

"Wait, what happened with my parents?" Grimmjow asked. Harribel explained, "As we know you worked at a Dojo. Your teacher there found out about the situation with your parents and offered that you could live in his Dojo if you were willing to help take care of the building, protect it from possible break ins and clean it. You lived there until you were old enough to live on your own and afford a place to live. I myself do not truly know what happened to your parents, Grimmjow. Their situation could have ended happily or it could have ended miserably, either way you never saw them again after you started high school."

"You wouldn't know anything about…Ulquiorra would you?" he asked. She said, "You both parted ways after high school. He wanted to become a doctor so he traveled to America to learn more about medicine while you remained here to train yourself." Grimmjow nodded. _If that's the case…maybe Ulquiorra died while in America? _He didn't like the idea of that. Even if Ulquiorra was one of his least favorite people, in the past he had been his only friend. He wasn't sure how Ulquiorra's death would have affected his past self, not after having waited so long for companionship.

And they arrived at their destination. They were standing outside the same Dojo from before except there were a few noticeable differences. There were candles in the windows and soothing music such as drums, flutes and more coming from within. Grimmjow hurried over and stepped inside. The atmosphere was warm and full of excitement and glee. People sat on the side eating, drinking and chatting and others danced to the music being played by the musicians.

Grimmjow seated himself at a chair and searched for himself in the crowd. He spotted himself nearly instantly and grinned. "There's your ridiculous hair color," said Harribel. "I was beginning to worry." It seemed that sometime during the past two years, Grimmjow had dyed his hair the same shade of blue it was now. "Same here." Grimmjow said with a grin.

Grimmjow, now probably in his twenties, was dressed in a formal light blue kimono and had seemingly just got done cleaning. He seated himself on one of the mats and watched people dance around him. He didn't look like he knew why he was there. Grimmjow watched himself and frowned. "You said this was supposed to be a happier time. I look sad as shit."

Harribel said, "It is." and she pointed to the door and Grimmjow turned in time to see the wooden door slide open as Ulquiorra entered the Dojo, dressed very differently from everyone else in the room. He wore American attire, though Grimmjow couldn't imagine running around in the freezing cold in a kimono would be very fun anyway. And for some reason he felt so relaxed to see him. He had been so ready to believe Ulquiorra might have met his fate and become a Hollow while in America.

Because he knew that that fate had to happen eventually. And for whatever reason, he wasn't looking forward to it. Not when his younger self finally seemed at some kind of peace.

He heard shifting behind him and saw his past self turn towards the doorway, saw the look on his own face change from one of deep brooding to what could only be described as pure glee. And at the sight of the other, Ulquiorra's face lit up as well and a small smile slipped easily across his face. Grimmjow swore he had never seen such an expression on Ulquiorra's face before. His eyes were so full of life and though the smile was a small one, it was amazing just how much it lit up his face.

He'd have thought that seeing Ulquiorra smile would have chilled him to the bone because of how unnatural the sight would have been. _Shit, I'm thinking about this too much._

And seeing himself smile was another thing that interested him too. It was so odd to imagine the joyous emotions racing through him and he didn't think he'd ever felt or been that happy before in his life as an Espada. It was so odd to watch, curiously odd. In fact it almost made him feel rather envious. And he saw Grimmjow stand to his feet and walk to him until they stood together, staring at one another. Ulquiorra seemed to want to speak and so did Grimmjow but they both were unsure of what to say.

Ulquiorra gripped his arm, glancing once at the crowd behind them as if making sure no one was looking and when he seemed certain, he stood up on the tips of his toes and placed a kiss to the taller man's lips.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!" Grimmjow exclaimed, flinging himself back in his chair and Harribel looked at him, an amused expression in her eyes. "Wait, what?! What?! _What_?!" Grimmjow said, his mouth hanging open. What the _fuck_ had he just seen? Ulquiorra kissed him? _Ulquiorra kissed_ _him_?! Harribel actually chuckled. "Did you tamper with something in my memory, Woman? Women are into that kind of shit, aren't they?"

Harribel said, "I can assure you I did not mess with your memory."

Grimmjow turned to stare back at the two of them with his eyes wider than dinner plates. _What the fuck was that? We were—?! I was—?! He was—?! What? That makes no sense! How the hell does it make sense for us to have been in that kind of relationship when we can't even stand to look at one another nowadays?!_

Harribel said, "You seem so shocked."

"Shocked?!" Grimmjow exclaimed, turning towards her. "That's the biggest understatement of the century! I hate him! How does this even work?" Harribel said, "Apparently absence makes the heart grow fonder, as they say and it seems true in this case. You were both the greatest friends each other could have. You both were distant with your parents, you both were loners. You had everything in the world to relate to. I suppose after Ulquiorra left for America you both had plenty of time to think of the other and come to your own conclusions about your feelings for each other. Regardless of how you view one another now, you certainly didn't hate him when you first met and you clearly don't hate him in this memory."

He supposed that answer was good enough, even if the idea of him and Ulquiorra was so weird to him. Grimmjow just shook his head and turned back to find himself returning the kiss given to him. He scowled. "If you're showing me this because you think it'll change how I view the guy, you're dead wrong. I hate him. Nothing will change that." Harribel said, "I don't expect a proper answer but why do you hate him so much?"

Grimmjow said, "I just do, alright? I don't need a reason to." She said, "Very well." Grimmjow said, "Want me to name a few reasons? He stands for everything I hate. He bows down to Shinigami, he thinks he's better than me, he looks at me like I'm beneath him and he talks to me like I'm beneath him. He's just—!"Harribel said, "No need to keep going. I will continue to let you live in denial about your fascination towards him. So let us continue to view this memory without further interruptions."

Grimmjow began to ask how the heck she managed to link fascination in this whole thing but was distracted when a balding man said, "Ladies and Gentlemen, I would like to thank you for coming to help me celebrate the holidays. I know Christmas is not widely celebrated in Japan, but I myself believe it to be a wonderful holiday. In this house it doesn't matter if you celebrate it religiously or not, all that brings me joy is having each and every one of my students together in this room. It has been my pleasure to train all of you here in this Dojo and I wish you the best of luck in your future. I am truly proud of every one of you and I can only hope you continue to master your skills and that you keep them with you for the rest of your lives! Now, shall we have one final dance?" Grimmjow suddenly had a strange respect for the man, who must have been his teacher. If he wasn't mistaken, it was this man who had helped him achieve his dreams of becoming stronger. "Hm." He said and Harribel asked, "What?" Grimmjow said, "Nothing. Just…I have the urge to say a word or two to him, that's all. If anything, I owe the fact that I have most of my strength and my determination to him, don't I?" He returned his attention to the pair by the door as people headed towards the musicians to dance.

Grimmjow turned to Ulquiorra and murmured, "Wanna dance?" Ulquiorra shook his head. "I look out of place enough as it is in this attire. Two men dancing would attract more attention than I am willing to deal with."

"Coward." Grimmjow said, wrapping an arm around his waist. Ulquiorra said, "Make no mistake however. I am truly happy to see you again, Grimmjow." And Grimmjow allowed a smile to slip onto his face, his arm pulling him closer. Ulquiorra seemed to tell he was disappointed about the dance however for he straightened up and whispered to him, "After everyone else has left." The memory skipped ahead to reveal that the Dojo had cleared. Ulquiorra was seated on one of the mats by the fire, helping himself to some tea while Grimmjow finished cleaning. Grimmjow called, "Alright, done. You enjoy watching me slave away?" he joked, propping himself down beside the other.

Ulquiorra said, "I knew you'd refuse if I offered. You've always been stubborn that way." Grimmjow rested his chin against his shoulder, placing a kiss against his neck. Ulquiorra leaned into him, placing his hand over Grimmjow's larger one. Ulquiorra's other hand reached into a bag beside him and pulled out something.

It was a small item covered in green wrapping paper with a little red ribbon atop it. Grimmjow looked at the item and groaned, hiding his face in Ulquiorra's neck. "Fucking hell. I didn't get you anything." Ulquiorra chuckled. "It doesn't matter. I just thought you would like it." Grimmjow sighed and took the item from him and weighed it. "It's a book, ain't it?" he said, grinning.

"Open it first." Ulquiorra said impatiently and Grimmjow cackled at his reaction. "Sure, sure." He removed the ribbon and wrapping paper eagerly. It was a book about the martial arts. He grinned widely. "I'd imagine you probably know everything in it, but I just thought you might—," Ulquiorra began almost nervously. Grimmjow placed a quick kiss to his lips. "Shut up, alright? No one's ever given me a gift before, Ulquiorra, so I wanna enjoy it without knowing you're worrying about it."

"Alright." Ulquiorra agreed. Grimmjow frowned and he said, "Now I'm just going to feel terrible because now I know you didn't get one." Ulquiorra shrugged. "No matter. If you still wish to, you may have that dance you wanted. That will be enough of a present to me." And Grimmjow was instantly on his feet.

Grimmjow's eagerness vanished and he said, "Would you believe me if I said I actually don't know how to dance?" Ulquiorra said, "I never imagined you did know. However I am familiar with how the waltz goes. I could teach you." Grimmjow nodded and Ulquiorra took his hand and placed it on his waist before taking his right hand. "It is simple. Knowing you, you'll master it in seconds." Grimmjow nodded, licking his lips nervously.

Ulquiorra said, "Watch my feet. We'll gradually increase speed but for now, this will do. Ready?" Grimmjow said, "Just move, Ulquiorra." And Ulquiorra began to move in a slow circle while Grimmjow stumbled to keep up, his gaze very concentrated.

Ulquiorra was right, he did master it quickly and within minutes, he was no longer looking at his feet and was instead moving gently with Ulquiorra, their faces inches apart. Grimmjow watched himself dance in wonder, amazed by just how happy he looked—how happy the both of them looked. He had never imagined either of them could look so at peace, least of all that they could make _each other_ so content and happy.

There was no music playing, but Grimmjow could practically hear it in his head. Harribel said, "We need to keep going. My time is running short." And he said, "I want to know what happened to Ulquiorra." And Harribel looked at him curiously. "You keep saying our histories are alike. Why?"

Harribel stared into the distance, as if remembering. She said, "While you were born into an abusive household, there was no physical abuse in Ulquiorra's life. But there was verbal abuse. His mother was a very sad human being. She had no love for herself. She was a very depressed person and had a very bleak view on life at an early age. And when her son was born, she was eager to force her ideas on him."

Grimmjow didn't see the logic in this. "You'd think that if she wanted a kid so bad and went so far to have him, she'd make an effort to treat him right." He felt the same way about his parents. Why did they have children if they were going to treat them so terribly? And what Harribel said next took Grimmjow a few moments to process.

"He was never wanted."

And for a moment all he could think was, _what does that even mean? How could she have him if she…didn't…want to…? _And he understood nearly instantly. "She didn't want to have him but her family was against the idea of abortion and they made her go along with it. She was told he would look like more like her than the man responsible for her pregnancy, but she still despised him."

And an image burst into his mind of a woman staring down at him, her eyes dark with misery as she whispered, "You're meaningless." And he heard a child's voice ask, "Why?" His mother whispered, "Because you cannot make me happy. What kind of child," her voice broke and she looked away, tears in her eyes. "What kind of child cannot make his mother happy?"

He could feel a lump forming in his throat as he watched the woman above him start to cry. Why couldn't he make her happy? What had he done wrong? She would never tell him what he had done to make her unhappy. "I'm sorry, mommy." He choked and she whispered sharply, "Do not call me that. Never call me that, do you hear me?"He could feel someone gripping his arm in a painfully tight grasp.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry…"

"What child exists to make his mother miserable?" the woman sobbed and she couldn't look at him anymore.

And the image was gone and Grimmjow could see nothing. _He's not the man who did it! Stop treating him like he is! _Grimmjow's mind screamed. And another image filled his mind.

He was watching from the crack in the door as his mother sat with a faceless man. "You can't send him to an orphanage. He wouldn't last, Naomi." The man's voice insisted gently. "You have to keep him here." And the woman wailed. "I _can't_! I can't stand to look at him! I don't want him; I don't want to be anywhere _near_ him!"

And he wasn't even crying when he heard the truth in those words. He was confused. He just didn't know _why_. He didn't understand what he had done wrong. And her eyes were on him now, eyes full of hate and disgust. And from then on, he never believed in the idea that he had purpose and struggled to understand why he existed. He sealed himself off from other people, knowing that he probably couldn't make them happy.

Until he met Grimmjow.

Harribel's empty voice whispered in his ear, _People change, for better or for worse._

And the images faded and Grimmjow found himself on his knees in a dark room. _Unfair. _That was the only word he could use to describe what he was feeling towards Ulquiorra's situation. It was absolutely unfair. There was an ache inside him, and it was a feeling unlike any he had ever known. _You didn't deserve any of that. _

And he heard a voice.

"Grimmjow, look at me." He turned his head, the simple movement taking more energy than it should have. Ulquiorra was sitting beside Grimmjow who was staring intently into the fireplace. Grimmjow didn't move. He didn't even look at him. "I'm going to join the soldiers." Grimmjow said resolutely.

Silence fell in the room apart from the crackling of the fire.

"What?" Ulquiorra asked. Grimmjow repeated, "I'm tired of sitting around, Ulquiorra." And Grimmjow turned with wide eyes to watch himself stand up and say, "They'll be gathering Japanese soldiers for the war in an hour. I'm getting out there and I'm fighting."

_So you're just leaving? _Grimmjow thought, unable to comprehend why his past self was saying these things. _You can't _leave_ him!_

Ulquiorra was silent, his posture was stiff and it was obvious he was shocked. He said, "You're going off to fight for a country that has done nothing for you?"

"It isn't about the damn country! I've been waiting all these years, Ulquiorra! I've waited all these years for a chance to prove my strength. And when another American soldier falls dead at my feet, no one will _ever _doubt my strength again!" Grimmjow said his voice full of vicious excitement.

_After all of this you're _leaving_? _Grimmjow forced himself to his feet, his blood pumping fast in his ears. "No! No, why am I doing this?" Grimmjow asked, panicked. Harribel said, "People change." Grimmjow whipped around and Harribel continued, "Being the strongest fighter at your Dojo wasn't enough. Not after being looked down on all through your childhood."

Grimmjow said, "I come to my senses right?" Harribel said, "Senses? I thought that this was the way you lived." Grimmjow strode to her and grabbed the front of her dress and yelled, "Don't do this to me! Tell me I snap out of it!"

They heard Ulquiorra speak behind them, "This is about me, isn't it?" and Grimmjow said incredulously, turning to stare at him in anger, "No! No it isn't, Ulquiorra!" and Ulquiorra said, his voice rising, "You think I haven't noticed how distant you've grown this past year, Grimmjow? I can't even remember the last time you held my gaze for more than a few seconds. What did I do wrong?"

_You didn't do anything wrong. You never did anything wrong. Tell him that! _

Grimmjow wasn't looking at Ulquiorra, he was determinedly avoiding him.

"Look at him!" Grimmjow implored. "God dammit, _look_ at him!"

"Is my respect for you not enough? Do you need the respect of the world? You will never have everyone's respect Grimmjow; there will always be stronger people. Tell me why what I have done for you wasn't enough. I implore you." Ulquiorra's voice was desperate.

Grimmjow couldn't stand this! Why did he stand there and say nothing?! _What you did was more than enough, you were everything I needed!_ _Say something! Anything! Do it!_ But he was silent and Grimmjow understood why he said nothing. Because in this moment, he didn't know what he wanted. He was torn completely in two between the urge to move forward, to become the strongest he could be and to make up for a childhood—for _years_— of being undermined and belittled, and between the need to stay with the one person who had never once made him feel like he needed to be the best he could be, that it was okay if he wasn't the best—because who he was had made Ulquiorra happy.

And Grimmjow knew what he would choose. He would choose what he had always chosen. If you were an Adjuchas, to never consume an enemy would mean regression. You could only ever move forward. Fighting and anger was all he had ever known in his life as a human and he would choose the one that made the most sense to him, the one he had the most control over and the one that made him feel safest.

Because he was afraid that if he stayed he would eventually lose everything either way. In some way or another, Ulquiorra would hurt him, just like everyone else in his life had. And he was too afraid to even dare to imagine that it might end differently.

And Ulquiorra said, "I will not go with you. No one in this country has ever done anything for me to earn my loyalty. Except you. So I will not stop you, I cannot. I couldn't stop you, not knowing that if you stay I couldn't give you what you need."

And Grimmjow moved across the room to the two of them and shouted to himself, his voice desperate, "_Speak _to him! He's the best thing that's ever happened to you, _don't_ you throw that away do you hear me?!" And when Grimmjow said nothing, Ulquiorra's voice rose, "I tried. I tried to be the best person I could for you, Grimmjow. Was all I ever doing just slowing you down? Was I entertainment for you while you waited for this?"

And Grimmjow couldn't watch anymore, he couldn't take it knowing that he was powerless to stop himself from making the biggest mistake of his life. He turned away, his face in his hand.

And he heard footsteps stop at the door and looked over his shoulder and found himself standing at the door. "Don't do this." Grimmjow implored, bowing his head, willing himself to make the right choice. "Turn around, please turn around."

And Grimmjow took one last look at Ulquiorra standing in the darkly lit building before he wrenched open the door and stepped out into the cold. And Grimmjow lost it. "You idiot!" he roared, slamming his fist against the wall. "No! No, _no_!" He hit the wall repeatedly, falling to his knees, beating the wall with his fist.

And Grimmjow stood and seized the spirit's dress. "Tell me I came back! Tell me something, _anything_!" Harribel said, "You know you didn't." Grimmjow pushed her away from him and leaned against the wall. There was an ache deep within his chest and for the first time in his life he realized he was in true, deep emotional pain. "I can't. I can't stay here another minute. Take me home!"

"Are you feeling sympathetic?" the spirit questioned and Grimmjow turned around with a roar of anger, but when he spoke his voice was broken. "What do you _think_?! _Huh_? He finally thought he had some reason to be alive, that he had purpose and I fucking _spat_ in his face! I owed him _everything_!" he wailed.

"Aren't you supposed to hate him?" she questioned.

And he couldn't answer that question. Not in the emotional state he was in. "Take me home!" but it wasn't an order. He was begging.

And when he looked up she was gone.

_No. Why am I still here? I need to leave, I _have _to leave!_

"Spirit!" he roared, his eyes searching the endless darkness and suddenly, he was falling, his hands reaching for something, anything—

And he awoke in his bed, his hand reaching out in front of him. His hand fell across his eyes and he lay there, listening to what must have been the suppressed sobs in his throat trying to break free. He turned over and pressed his face into the mattress, attempting to somehow staunch the pained sobs begging to escape his lips. He screwed his eyes shut, his jaw clenching tightly together to hold them in, trying to ignore the feelings of misery and sympathy constricting his chest. He could never have imagined he was capable of feeling such pain for another person, least of all Ulquiorra.

And he swore the next ghost that came along was going to get a punch in the face for doing this to him. He hated this, he absolutely hated that he had been reduced to this. But he swore the instant this was over, no matter how badly this ended; he was going to speak to Ulquiorra. There was too much that had gone unsaid and done between them. And within seconds he was asleep again, steeling himself for the next encounter.


	3. Chapter 3

Part 3: The Second ghost

And Grimmjow was awoken by the loud _gong_ of a bell at 11:00. With a scowl he lifted his face from his pillow and heard a massive boom of, "Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez!" and Grimmjow jumped nearly eight feet and pulled his pillow over his head. _Not again…_And the curtains were wrenched back and he felt something seize him around his waist and pull him from bed! "Put me down!" Grimmjow ordered and he found himself face to face with Coyote Starrk! Except he was _massive_!

_Great._

He suddenly smelled something rather good and he looked down to find that Starrk sat on a throne surrounded by a massive pile of assorted delicious looking foods. Starrk himself also wore a red and white festive robe, a white dress shirt and green and gold patterned trousers and a wreath of hollies around his head. Grimmjow thought he looked rather foolish, mostly because he was angered at being woken at 11:00 at night. "Took your time! I had to bang that thing twice." The Primera Espada (or just…the Ghost) complained, pointing to a gong beside him. Grimmjow wiggled some more and said, "And what the hell are you here to show me? How to sleep?" He wasn't in a hurry to chat.

Starrk said, "What, you don't want some of this food? Man, what a waste… In the annoying case that you don't know why I'm here, which you _should_, I'm here to take you on a tour of the present. I," he said grandly, "Am the Ghost of Christmas Present! So I guess that means I'm that Santa guy or something…?" He wondered, scratching his chin.

"Oi, did you not hear me? Put me down!" Grimmjow said impatiently and Starrk plopped him down and Grimmjow fell on top of a turkey. Starrk said, standing to his feet and drastically decreasing in size, "Yeah, yeah. Don't bite my head off, man. I don't know why we couldn't have done this earlier in the day." He whined, yawning widely.

Grimmjow said, "Just get on with it." And Starrk winced at his loud voice and said, "Fine, geez…Touch my robe and let's get this crap over with." and he seized a part of the fabric and thrust it at Grimmjow. Grimmjow wasn't sure what that was supposed to accomplish but he reached out and grasped the Espada's robe. And his room disappeared around him and they were both flying over the snowy streets of what was unmistakably Karakura Town!

Grimmjow jumped and latched onto the robe a little tighter as they flew past a church and Grimmjow could see a town square ahead of them where children galloped through the snow, some accompanied by adults and people chatted merrily to one another. There was also a massive tree in the heart of the square, decked out in golden lights as well as multiple colored lights and shining, large ornaments with a star atop it.

They passed several more snow covered roofs and cheerful pedestrians before they came to a halt and landed in the square and Starrk said, gesturing a white gloved hand ahead of him, "Behold. A familiar sight." and Grimmjow rolled his eyes and said, "Alright, you can cut the melodrama." and looked for this "familiar sight". He spotted it nearly instantly.

It was only his backside but he knew that messy head of ebony hair anywhere and recognized the eerily graceful way he carried himself. Ulquiorra roamed the snow-covered streets of Karakura Town, his coattails billowing behind him and his hair swaying in the wind. Grimmjow was suddenly reminded of the history they shared and scowled when he felt something in his chest tighten. He really wasn't used to feeling this way towards his superior at all.

There was not even any reason for him to be feeling sympathy for him, not when Ulquiorra didn't even remember their shared past or his horrible childhood. But _he_ still did and he didn't like it. "Great, why is he here? I saw enough of that guy in the last memory." Starrk said, "You'll see." And Grimmjow growled softly.

"This is the present so, can he see us?" Grimmjow asked. Starrk said, "No. We are here to observe, not to chat. I wasn't under the impression you wanted to speak with him anyway." He said, raising a brow at him.

"I don't." Grimmjow lied. Honestly, he did rather want to talk to Ulquiorra. He wanted to get this load off his chest. He didn't want to be the only one knowing the things he did about the other and how much he had meant to him in the past. It was just too weird to carry with him for much longer. But it wasn't a bad weird, at least not as much as it could have been.

"What's he doin' here anyway? He must be on a mission or something." Grimmjow muttered. But hadn't their mission ended hours ago? Why was Ulquiorra still here? Starrk said, "No orders. He's here because he wants to be." That surprised Grimmjow greatly and he looked at the other with bigger interest.

"I never got the impression he likes it here." Grimmjow said, following the Cuatro Espada through the busy streets, blinking snow out of his eyes. Starrk snorted. "Who wants to bet you never bothered asking." And Grimmjow knew that he was right about that. He had never bothered asking about a lot of thing Ulquiorra related.

_Where's he going anyway? _He thought. Ulquiorra stopped walking and paused to stare in a shop window and Grimmjow headed over to see what he was looking at. Inside the store, a man was handing a diamond necklace to a young woman and she gave a happy laugh and hugged him tightly. He saw Ulquiorra's brows furrow in annoyance and Grimmjow could practically hear him thinking, for he himself had the same thoughts.

_Humans got so happy over the littlest actions._

Grimmjow began to wonder if Ulquiorra was here out of curiosity of the Holiday customs. That would make sense. Perhaps he was researching them for Aizen?

_No. Doesn't Aizen already know about Christmas? Ah…I get it. _He understood and he followed Ulquiorra way from the jewelry store. Ulquiorra watched everything around him with a curiosity hidden within his bright eyes. He watched with the children frolic happily in the substance he himself shivered in and he watched people buying or exchanging gifts with interest.

Ulquiorra was genuinely fascinated by Christmas.

"Why's he so into it?" Grimmjow asked, not really able to understand, especially having seen most memories where he himself was miserable during Christmas. Starrk said tiredly, "What kind of question is that? He's interested in it and also mildly annoyed by it because it stands for everything he knows nothing about. Joy, giving, friendship, care." He said. "It's only natural he'd be interested in it I guess. I personally never quite found time for that."

_But he always acts like humans are trash and that he's superior to them. Is he actually interested in them? Or at least, interested in their customs? Why? _Grimmjow thought as he watched Ulquiorra roam the streets, watching couples skip hand in hand through the snow, smiles lighting up their faces. He himself didn't understand just how why this holiday affected people as much as it did. And clearly, Ulquiorra didn't either and was probably more fascinated by it than he was.

_Huh. I guess he isn't as uninterested as he pretends to be…that makes both of us then, Ulquiorra. _Ulquiorra suddenly turned around and headed back towards the jewelry store. Grimmjow hurried after him and saw him duck inside. "What's he doing now?" he mumbled and Starrk said, "Oi, wait up!" and hurried to him, panting. Grimmjow followed him within the store and saw Ulquiorra, now in his Gigai, stop before the counter.

"Just this." He said, placing something on the counter. "A present for your girlfriend?" she said with a wink and Ulquiorra looked away with a scoff. "Hardly." And she said, "Oh, too bad. Have a great day, sir!" and she handed the small blue wrapped box, attaching a green ribbon.

"I didn't ask to have it wrapped." He stated and the woman said, "Oh, sorry. Are you one of _those_ people? You know the ones that don't like festivity? Shame." She said cheerfully and when she made to take the box back, Ulquiorra said, "Never mind." And pocketed the box and headed from the store.

Grimmjow was curious. Had he bought himself something? "He's doing it wrong." He said with a smirk. "Aren't you supposed to waste your money on shit for other people?" Starrk said, "It isn't wasting if you really want it. But yeah, you buy stuff for people because it makes them happy. I'll tell you this; he didn't buy it for himself."

Grimmjow looked over at the larger man. "For Aizen, then?"

"Stop guessing, it ruins the surprise." The ghost replied, heading from the store and out into the cold. Grimmjow scowled, he hated being left guessing. Whatever, it didn't matter who Ulquiorra had bought it for. He saw Ulquiorra seat himself on a bench and hastily scribble on a note he attached to the box. Ulquiorra paused, as if suddenly questioning his actions.

Grimmjow found that a little strange. Ulquiorra was acting on impulses? Well he guessed there was a first time for everything, even that. He saw the man's emerald eyes glance towards a trash can to his left, saw him lift the box as if considering tossing it away.

Seeming to come to some resolution, he put the box inside his pocket and turned his head to look down the street and, curious, Grimmjow looked as well. A group of people stood gathered beneath the tree in the center of the square, holding little red books. They began to sing.

People began to gather and some began to sing along, too. Ulquiorra stood and headed towards the crowd and stopped just on the outskirts to watch them with curious eyes. Grimmjow asked, "What are they doing, exactly?" Starrk said, "They're singing carols. It's just another thing people do during the holidays. These humans sound much better than last year's." He said, leaning against a lamppost to listen.

Grimmjow too had to admit, the singing wasn't that bad. It was actually rather soothing. He stepped forward to stand beside Ulquiorra and looked from the carolers to the Espada beside him. The golden lights from the tree were reflected in his eyes and he watched with a rather peaceful but intrigued expression on his face.

Snow had gathered in his hair and in his eyelashes as he stood, watching the people sing. There was something about the way his hair swayed in the wind, the look of curiosity in his emerald eyes and the music that fell as gently as the snow in the air around them that created a soothing feeling within him that he had never experienced before…except maybe when they were together in the past. There was something about the way he stood apart from the crowd, curious and trying to understand, that made Grimmjow feel like he should have been standing _within_ the crowd. He had lived all of his life as a human and an Espada that way, always on the outside. _When's enough enough, Ulquiorra? _Grimmjow looked away and stared back at the sparkling tree, lightly coated with snow, its lights shining brightly and allowed himself a moment to feel that soothing feeling just a little longer.

_"Hark! the herald angels sing  
"Glory to the newborn King  
Peace on earth and mercy mild,  
God and sinners reconciled!"  
Joyful, all ye nations rise;  
Join the triumph of the skies;  
With angelic host proclaim  
"Christ is born in Bethlehem!"  
Hark! the herald angels sing  
"Glory to the newborn King!"_

Starrk's voice spoke up. "Let's get a move on. I ain't got much time left. Touch my robe." Grimmjow frowned at himself, realizing he wanted to linger a bit longer to hear the song and see more of what Ulquiorra wanted to do. And before Starrk could tell him again, Grimmjow said, "I got it. Don't throw a fit." And without looking away from Ulquiorra, he reached out and grasped the plush fabric of Starrk's robe.

As much as it was strange to admit, he really did want to know more about Ulquiorra now. A lot more. And when he was visible again, he was going to make speaking to him his top priority.

And the pleasant voices of the singers began to fade and Ulquiorra's graceful posture vanished in a rush of color as they flew elsewhere. Over the sounds of the wind in his air, he heard more of the choir's voices in his ears and he looked over his shoulder to find they had flown past a church. As soon as the music entered his ears, it was gone however.

They touched ground and Grimmjow looked around. They had landed outside a two story house, its stone fence covered in snow and some snow fell from the roof as well. What caught Grimmjow's attention was the big yellow sign that read _Kurosaki Clinic_. So the guy's family was doctors? He felt his lip curl. "Kurosaki's house, huh? And why exactly am I here of all places?"

"Don't complain. I'm too damned tired for that." Starrk said, walking through the gate while Grimmjow jumped it and moved swiftly towards the building. He entered the house and looked around. Kurosaki's house was festively decorated; tinsel decorated the windows and the kitchen table and holly was hung here and there and a Christmas tree sat in the living room fully decorated.

And he heard movement in the kitchen and he turned and saw a black haired man working in the kitchen, humming cheerfully, Grimmjow guessed that was his father and that Kurosaki was probably at school or something. Grimmjow headed to the sofa and sat upon it, tapping his fingers as he waited impatiently for his enemy to show.

He heard a yelp from the kitchen and saw the father pull a smoking pot from the oven and curse. The door opened and Grimmjow turned and saw a black haired girl enter. _His sibling I guess? Where the hell'd he get that stupid hair color anyway?_ "Karin-chan," the man shouted with an annoyingly sweet voice. "My wonderful daughter! How was your day?"

The girl scowled and said, "Dad, it was fine! No need to be so excited…did—did you burn something?" she said, sniffing the air and sighing exasperatedly. He sighed. "Yeah. Daddy's not so good in the kitchen! At least, nowhere near as good as Yuzu-chan! Did Ichigo go and pick her up?" he asked, expectantly.

"Yeah, of course!" Karin said, heading to the kitchen to gather some plates. "He's not so scatterbrained he'd forget about his own sister, especially not when she's in her condition." She added somewhat sadly. "Oh, no need to help, Karin-chan." He said quickly. "Dinner won't be ready for another few minutes. Go wash your hands." And when she sighed he said, "Do it. I couldn't call myself a doctor if I allowed my kids to eat with dirty hands."

Karin sighed but smiled and said, "Got it, dad." and headed upstairs. "Don't burn the rest of it!" she called teasingly, hurrying away. He pouted. "Not even my own daughters trust me…" he whined, turning down the heat on the stove and heading toward a chest of drawers by the couch. He picked up a picture from the shelf.

Grimmjow craned his neck to get a better look. It was a woman, smiling a bright, happy smile. He said and did nothing but simply smile back at the picture, a shine in his eyes. He set the picture down gently and then jumped when he heard the oven beep before hurrying to the stove.

Grimmjow stood to get a better look at the picture. _His wife? _He guessed. _Kind of a creepy picture. _Starrk said, "That's Kurosaki's mom." Grimmjow said, "Yeah, I figured that out myself. Where is she anyway?" Starrk said, "Dead. She died fifteen years ago." Grimmjow felt somewhat shocked by that. When the father had looked at the picture, there had been no sadness in his eyes like he would have expected—only love and pride.

The door behind them opened and he turned and found himself staring at Ichigo Kurosaki as he entered the house and he instantly tensed as if ready to attack. He wasn't alone, a little girl with strawberry blond hair sat upon his shoulders. "Make sure you don't hit your head on the door frame, Yuzu." Ichigo warned and the little girl replied, "I know, Ichi-nii! We're home!" she called cheerfully.

And Mr. Kurosaki raced into the room and said, "Yuzu-chan! Welcome back!" Ichigo grumbled, "And am I the wall, dad?" and gently lowered the little girl from his shoulders. "I had a lot of fun today, dad!" Yuzu said excitedly. "Ichi-nii took me to church just like I asked. And we had a snowball fight on the way back—!"

"—Which I totally won!" Ichigo teased, grinning. "Did not!" Yuzu pouted and Ichigo ruffled her hair. Grimmjow himself grinned, the girl had spunk! Mr. Kurosaki smiled and Karin emerged on the staircase. "Sounds like you two had a blast! Karin-chan, can you help Yuzu-chan to the bathroom to clean her hands?" Yuzu instantly refused the help.

"No, it's alright. I can do it." And when she headed towards the stairs, Grimmjow caught sight of a thoroughly bandaged right leg and a crutch beneath her arm. He was surprised. This little girl acted as if nothing was wrong with her leg! She was as cheery as could be. He knew so many people that would make a fuss and complain if they broke a part of their body. But she didn't. Moving clearly hurt to her as she winced slightly when she put weight on it but she still managed to walk.

Grimmjow smirked. "Strong kid. Kind of like me, actually." He noted. He watched with an impressed air as she successfully climbed up the stairs and limped towards the bathroom and disappeared from sight. Ichigo had watched, very tense and then seated himself in a chair, messaging his temple. Karin hurried to him, gripping his arm. "How was she, Nii-chan?" she asked urgently.

Ichigo said, "She is still clearly in pain. The meds we got haven't been helping. But she's strong and cheerful. I honestly…I can honestly say that I think she might be okay." He spoke with relief and happiness, as if he had been afraid he'd never be able to say such positive things about his sister's condition before. Karin seemed to relax and then hurried to check on her sister. Ichigo's cheerful smile faltered the instant she was out of sight and he looked at his father. "I…I lost money I had been earning for her surgery, dad." He said brokenly.

Mr. Kurosaki's eyes widened and an expression of shock crossed his face. "What? You…got work to try and help your sister? I thought I had told you not to—," he whispered, hurrying over to his son. "Yeah. I got work. And I lost what I had earned. Just those few final dollars and I would have been one step closer to being able to help her! And I lost it!" Ichigo whispered his voice almost tearful.

Mr. Kurosaki stared at his son in shock. "I thought I told you not to go so far, Ichigo. I told you I was working to try and find us a new way of affording treatment for her. You didn't need to work yourself so hard." He said his voice soothing. "But…" His voice now sounded tearful. "The fact that you went so far for her makes me so proud. Hang on to what money you still have and don't you lose heart. I'm still trying to find an extra job myself, we'll work together on this and before you know it, we'll have enough to pay for her surgery. Hang in there, kiddo." And Ichigo smiled wetly at his dad. "Got it."

Grimmjow turned to the ghost beside him and said, "But they live in a clinic! How don't they make money?" Starrk said, "Business hasn't been all that great. A new hospital opened up a few streets down. Parents would rather take their kids to a more professional lookin' hospital, I guess. Kurosaki's job is also slow. It took him nearly three months to earn that money he lost. Finding work nowadays is difficult, too." Starrk noted, leaning against the wall.

Grimmjow looked up and saw Ichigo and the three others gathering around the table. Mr. Kurosaki set down a small roast chicken on the table. It was rather badly burned. Grimmjow chuckled and Ichigo scowled and said, "Wow, who did the cooking?" Mr. Kurosaki said, "Hey, knock it off. This was expensive." Grimmjow's humor left him and he frowned for what felt like the 100th time that day. The chicken was small, just barely enough to feed all four family members.

"Didn't they just say they barely had enough money?" Grimmjow asked. "Why are they even bothering if they know it is expensive?" Starrk said, "Are you serious? In these times of hardship for them, Christmas is not only a holiday, but a source of hope for them. They do it because it makes 'em happy, because if they don't, they'll have nothing this year except worries and fears."

Yuzu gasped and said, "Wait, not yet!" and she stood and limped over to the drawers beside the couch and picked up the picture of her mother and placed it in front of the fifth chair next to her, the only empty chair in the room. Grimmjow felt himself still, the action creating a strange feeling inside of him. It wasn't happy or sad…it was just... "It…isn't like she can eat or anything…" Grimmjow mumbled, trying to avoid from admitting that the fact that even in death they found some way of keeping her close was moving to him. Starrk said, "Her memory is with them, even if she physically isn't there."

Mr. Kurosaki said with a bright smile on his face as he looked around at his family, "A Merry Christmas to all of us! And may we still be together and just as happy on the next! May God bless us." And he lifted his glass and the three others hastily clinked their glasses against his. Yuzu said earnestly, "God bless us every one!" and drank with them. And as she drank, Ichigo took her hand, a sudden almost saddened look in his eyes as he stared down at his little sister, his hand tightened on her smaller one, as if afraid she might leave. And suddenly, Grimmjow was unnerved.

Grimmjow said, feeling some sort of sinking feeling inside of him, "Kurosaki's acting like it's the end of the world. It's just a bum leg, ain't it?" Starrk hung his head, sighing lightly and Grimmjow looked at him, tense. "It is…just a broken leg, isn't it?" Starrk said gravely, "The leg isn't the problem. Kids are stupid and hurt themselves all the time. It's what's inside her that's the problem." He said, gesturing to his chest.

Grimmjow frowned. "Quit beating around the bush already." Starrk rolled his eyes and said solemnly, "Isn't it obvious what I mean? She has cancer, Grimmjow." And Grimmjow's stomach turned over and a chill was inside of him. "You're kidding. Kids don't get that shit. It's just a broken leg, she'll be—!" He denied instantly.

"It's a rare condition in children, but it is possible, unfortunately." Starrk's eyes narrowed, as if noticing something curious and he said, "What's with that look? I'd have thought you'd be more pleased. You're the one who made him lose the money in the first place." and Grimmjow's eyes widened! _What?! When did I—? _And he remembered what had happened this morning. He had confronted Ichigo in the market place and when the boy had reverted back into his human self and denied him his fight, Grimmjow had kicked him across the street and into a building.

"That—," and he didn't know why he was denying this as much as he was! He had seen people die every day of his life! Why did it matter to him if one died before its time and even more so because of him? He had killed countless creatures and enemies before. Why did the death of one child seem so personal to him?

"That little kick couldn't have—,"

Starrk scoffed. "_Little _kick? That kick created a massive hole in the building. It sent all of his money flying!" Grimmjow was silent, his head bowed and a deep brooding look on his face.

_Well how was I supposed to know he had a bunch of money in his pocket? Fuck! That kid can't die. She fucking has everything! _Everything_! Everything I didn't. She has a good home, a perfect family…and you're telling me…_

"You're telling me she's just going to croak and leave this all behind?" Grimmjow asked incredulously, something much more than anger in his voice. He sounded afraid. "That's stupid! She lives, right?" Starrk said, "Huh?" he had been listening to the carols on the radio. "Don't "huh" me, Starrk! Tell me she lives!" Grimmjow insisted. Starrk sighed and crossed his arms. "It isn't in my job description to discuss matters of the future with you.

"Starrk just stop playing around and just tell me if Yuzu lives!" Grimmjow said in a tone that might almost be considered fearful as he waited with baited breath for the answer. Starrk said gravely, "Her time is running out. It has only been a month since they found out about her condition, but it will spread fast and very soon it will be beyond the point of removal. Unless the future is somehow changed, this little girl's next Christmas will be her last." Grimmjow felt some sort of helplessness sink in, the same kind of helplessness he felt when he watched himself lie in the snow helpless to his attackers. "That…that's not fair. She can't die, not when she has this." Starrk said, "Perhaps you should have thought about the effect your actions would have on others, then?"

"I didn't—! Look you can't pin this on me, alright?" Grimmjow said defensively, refusing to admit he was the cause of this and looking back towards the table. And he knew in an instant he didn't want this little girl to die. Not when she had a potentially amazing life ahead of her, the life he had never had. Something had to happen, Kurosaki was a determined bastard and he'd fight for his sister. She'd…recover somehow. She had to! He sighed, running a hand through his hair. Starrk said, "Stop looking pathetic, man. They're eating now."

Grimmjow began to walk around the table as the Kurosaki family linked hands and said their prayers; his eyes lingering on Yuzu and feeling his chest tighten painfully. _You can't leave this, kid. _The idea wasn't fair to him, though he supposed that in life, a lot of things weren't. But the idea that she would be leaving behind what he could only describe as his idea of a perfect family…left him with an urge to do something, _anything _to save this child from the suffering he knew would come, and to keep this blissful image of this family united—as his had never been—around the table alive and had forgotten that he stood before his enemy and instead he could only see a boy who had everything he never did and felt nothing but envy for him. And for a moment, he remembered Kurosaki's invitation and suddenly longed to be part of that family. But who was he kidding? He was an Espada. H wasn't meant to intrude on such a personal moment.

And as he walked and the prayers finished, Yuzu offered to sing the song "Silent night." to which Mr. Kurosaki and his children eagerly agreed. And so Yuzu sang in lovely tones and the family listened with smiles on their faces. And Grimmjow just couldn't understand. Their situation wasn't all that desirable. They had little money, one of their family members was sick and they were on the brink of unemployment. But all they needed to be happy was each other's company? It was all too foreign to him, but most certainly not unpleasantly. He just wished he could have had this growing up and wondered if this kind of relationship with his family would have made him a happier person.

And the sad thing was, this happy, glowing family, already mended from the loss of another family member, was not to last.

And suddenly, he didn't want to stay any longer. He said, "Are we done here?"

He didn't want to think anymore about what the future would hold for this family. But he knew that all good things ended. He and Ulquiorra were a perfect example of that. Starrk said, "Very much done." And his voice sounded weaker. Grimmjow turned around and saw, to his surprise, that Starrk's goatee had grown grayer and his hair whiter. "What's up? You're aging."

Starrk said, "So I am. Let's go, we don't have long left." And Grimmjow reached out and took hold of his robe, watching as the happy family around the table blurred and vanished from sight. When everything stopped blurring around them, Grimmjow realized that they were standing on a more desolate street. The houses in this part of the city looked older and this area just seemed more sinister than the one they'd just been in.

There was a church ahead of them however and a massive line of people crowded the streets. "The homeless of the city come here every Christmas," Starrk explained feebly and Grimmjow could tell he was starting to feel weaker, his face was also starting to line and his hair was lessoning. "In the hopes of receiving meals that they could not afford elsewhere and to be given a place to spend the night." Ahead of them, the line of people began shoving and pushing and a fight broke out between two of the members.

Starrk strode forward, brandishing a staff from within his robe which he weaved over the heads of the two fighting. They instantly calmed and turned to head back to the line. Grimmjow frowned. "Hey, you have that staff. Why couldn't you have waved that thing over the meal back at Kurosaki's house?" Starrk said, "Yeah, I could have given them a feast this year. But where would the next come from? And the one after that?"

Grimmjow supposed he had a point. "It still would have meant something…" Grimmjow mumbled, looking around at the homeless lining the streets. There were so many of them, probably far more than there should have been given the size of this city. Their clothes hung off their frail bodies and they were shivering and occasionally coughing.

"The size of their meal meant nothing to them. Making it any larger would not have changed the events you witnessed back in that household." Starrk said firmly, using his staff as a walking stick now. Grimmjow knew he was right. And he heard a feeble voice, coming from the line behind them; start to sing the same song he had heard Yuzu sing.

He turned and saw a little boy huddled with his mother, staring up into the sky where what seemed to be a single star shone brightly above him. Grimmjow turned fully this time as an adult joined him in the song and then a few others joined in. Everywhere he looked, no matter how troubled their lives seemed to be, they put everything aside for the sake of celebrating this holiday.

"This is crazy." Grimmjow said quietly, watching as the group of homeless began to sing as they moved slowly towards the church's doors. "It is." Starrk agreed but with a small smile on his face while Grimmjow watched in wonder. Starrk was right, for people with hope this Christmas it was a time to be spent with the people closest and a day to relish in everything they had but for the people without it, Christmas was a beacon of hope that shone ever brightly that they reached for.

None of them were exactly perfect singers, but Grimmjow hadn't realized how content he was to stand and listen until he heard Starrk's more distant voice say, "My time is up." And Grimmjow turned and saw Starrk standing by the end of the street, his form hunched. Grimmjow headed over. "Why are you aging anyway? Where will you go?" Starrk said, "A spirit's life is short lived. I have fulfilled my purpose here, where I shall go is not up to me. I imagine I will find out shortly."

Grimmjow shuffled his feet in the snow, merely saying. "Oh." Strangely enough, he felt like he should do something to prevent the Primera's passing, but what could he do? He was meant to take lives, not to spare them. Silence fell and Grimmjow looked away from Starrk's withering face and down towards the ground, unsure what to say. And that was when he saw the claw beneath Starrk's robe. However it resembled too much of a hand to be called a claw but at the same time, it was gnarled, its nails overgrown and the skin dry, gray and cracked.

"Primera, what…is that?" Grimmjow asked. Starrk said tiredly, "Take a look." And he lifted his robe to reveal what Grimmjow first thought were demons of some kind until he realized that they were not demons at all, they were _children_. But upon closer inspection, he realized he had been right to think such a thing. Though they were small in appearance, they wore the expressions that might have been seen on a man who had lived for a thousand years, seen all the sufferings of the world and lived amongst it. Where their smiles should have been were the deepest scowls and sneers, their eyes were not full of life or joy but yellowed and dry. The boy's eyes were full of hate and the girl's, full of greed.

And they crawled towards him, the girl grasped at his feet, her hands clawing into his skin as if begging him for something. It was truly jarring to stare back down into those dried yellow eyes because when Grimmjow did, he felt like he wasn't staring into eyes at all, but deep, dark holes, beckoning him in. He pulled his gaze away, feeling that if he stared, he might fall into them.

"Are—are they yours, Primera?" Grimmjow asked, trying to somehow free his foot from the little girl without touching her, but she clung to him tighter as if begging him to stay but with the way she looked at him, he wasn't sure what fate would befall him if he did. He wasn't a squeamish person at all, but in no way did he think he could bring himself to place his hands upon the horrible looking child to remove her from him. And by now, the boy had lunged and seized his foot, his nails digging into his skin with the intent to harm, with his eyes full of hate and anger.

"They are mans children but they have abandoned them to my care." Starrk answered his eyes now sunken and full of sadness as he watched the children at his feet. "The boy is Ignorance. The girl is Want. Beware them both, Grimmjow. But beware the boy _most _of all for it is within him that evil is spawned." He whispered, lifting a hand and pointing a withered finger to the hateful boy glaring up at him.

And Grimmjow began to cave and he looked away as the boy's features contorted, his yellowed eyes became blue and his hair took on Grimmjow's color. "Do not look away." Starrk ordered. "Look them in the eyes and warn your fellows to do the same for if we cannot…I foresee hate without end."

And Grimmjow finally couldn't take it and kicked the small, angry child from him and the girl turned and crawled back to the boy. And the church bell chimed a minute to midnight and Grimmjow turned, surprised by the sound. And when he looked back, Starrk, the boy and girl had all vanished.

Surprised, Grimmjow looked both ways down the street and instantly noticed something that instantly set him on edge. Something was wrong. There had at least been a few people in the streets behind them. The homeless were gone, the passersby had disappeared. The air, which he had felt only as a distant breeze throughout the whole time he had been here, had grown colder.

Grimmjow looked around, his eyes searching for something. He wanted to call out, but had the strangest feeling that he should remain quiet. Because he had a feeling that he knew what was about to happen in exactly a minute.

And above him, the church bells chimed midnight, but it was a deep, slow chime that for some reason sent a chill down his back that he knew had nothing to do with the weather. The street lamps behind him went out and the shadows in the streets got darker, particularly behind him. And he turned and saw that the street behind him was cast into unnaturally dark shadow.

And seemingly from the shadows itself, a hooded creature emerged—man or beast, Grimmjow couldn't tell—and glided slowly and eerily across the ground, heading right towards him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Part 4: The third and final ghost of Christmas**

Grimmjow stood completely frozen as the cloaked figured floated across the ground towards him, its cloak billowing out behind it even when the wind stopped blowing. And Grimmjow knew he didn't even have to ask what this ghost was to show him. Because he knew. And the idea of what he might be about to see was enough to keep his feet rooted to the floor.

And the cloaked figure toward above him and Grimmjow stared back into the darkness beneath its hood. The very air around it was cold and made goose bumps erupt on his arms. He could see nothing beneath its hood; it was as if the creature didn't have any eyes or a face, just endless darkness. And the longer he stared, the more he found it disturbing.

He said, his voice uncharacteristically small and quiet, "You're the ghost of Christmas future. Aren't you?" and it released a breathy exhale, the faint hint of a growl audible in its breath, giving its head a slow bow as if to say "I am". "You're going to show me…what's to come." He stated, feeling his reluctance to follow the phantom growing with each second.

_Christ, I don't want to see any of this…_his jaw clenched and he swore he could feel a tremor in his hands and a racing in his chest. He knew that if they stood here any longer, he wouldn't want to move on. This needed to be done, as much as he didn't want it to. _I don't want to know. _And he realized he was genuinely petrified of what he was to see. There were so many things that he knew would come to pass that he truly didn't want to.

And the worst was, he didn't know how he would react to them.

And he couldn't take standing here before the hellish phantom any longer. _Let it come._ In some way, he needed to know what was going to happen.

"Get moving, then. Before I change my mind. Get going and let's get this over and done with!" He said snappishly, his agitation making him impatient. And the phantom lifted a skeletal hand and pointed behind Grimmjow. Grimmjow hesitated but turned around. And when he turned around, he found himself face to face with Las Noches. Grimmjow waited for the spirit behind him to drift ahead, not wanting his back towards the creature.

He followed the specter down the halls, listening to the eerie silence echoing in his ears. Why were they here? If anything, he had expected to be taken to Kurosaki's house. He had to admit, being wrong was a relief. But the reason behind their being here left him in nervous silence.

"Why are we here?" he asked, not expecting an answer. But the silence was eating away at him. He chewed the inside of his lip, watching the spirit drift ahead of him. And he could hear voices ahead of them and he quickened his pace, countless questions racing through his head. Starrk had shown him Ulquiorra earlier, did that signify something? Was Ulquiorra alright?

Grimmjow found himself in the hallway, two familiar figures ahead of him. There stood Nnoitra Gilga and Szayel Aporro Grantz. Nnoitra was leaning against the wall and Szayel relaxed across from him. He released an agitated snarl, where the hell was Ulquiorra? And he made to walk by when Nnoitra said with a grin, "So, the bastard's really gone, then?" Szayel sighed and said, "Yeah, a _shame _isn't it?" but he obviously didn't mean it.

"I have to say, I certainly won't miss his noise in the hallways. It was always _so_ distracting! Here I'd be, trying to work and he would either be picking fights in the hallways or yelling at someone! All I can say is thank heavens. It's no loss at all, don't you agree?"

Nnoitra said, "Fuck yeah. That guy was pathetic as hell! Always pissing me off…I'm surprised it took him so long to die. One of us should have killed him a long time ago! And in the end, he couldn't even back up his words about how he was so much more powerful than everybody here and then he ends up with a sword in his gut! I can't, fucking, stand hypocrites." He muttered, trudging away down the hall while Szayel returned to his laboratory.

Grimmjow was completely still, his mind whirring. Deep down inside his gut, he had a feeling he knew who they were speaking of. But he forced the idea aside. There were so many people like the one they were describing in Las Noches. It could have been anyone. And he kept going.

There had to be at least someone here that acknowledge the death and treated it with respect. He was aware of how fruitless his search was. There was no pity or remorse amongst Espada.

But he had to keep searching, he just had to.

He headed to where Starrk usually slept and didn't find him there and he moved swiftly through the halls until he found Starrk in the kitchen, sipping some sake with Harribel and Barrigan. Starrk said, "Hey, old man, you heard about—?"

Barrigan replied impatiently. "Yes, Primera, I did. Why? You expect me to waste my time mourning the actions of a foolish youngster?" Starrk shook his head. "Nah. Just wondering. I never much liked him anyway, honestly. He always woke me up. He was the type of guy I didn't like, you know, too powerful and too eager to boast about it—too noisy."

Grimmjow felt his desperation mounting. _Someone has to care! Anyone! At least say something respectful!_

Harribel said seriously, "I agree with the Primera. It really is no loss. Knowing this place, another brute will replace him."

Barrigan said, "Enough talk. Since when do you stand idly by and discuss death?" he stood slowly and began to head from the room. Grimmjow shook his head. _Fuck this. _He turned to glare at the spirit behind him and said, "Enough of this bullshit. Show me something else! Some kind of emotional reaction!

And they stood in the throne room where Aizen sat upon his throne, looking down at Gin. Grimmjow knew this wouldn't be good. There was no way Aizen Sousuke would show any kind of remorse at the loss of one of his army members. But he still waited with wide eyes and a growing feeling of desperation and fear inside of him. "So, it is true then?" Gin nodded. "A shame, ain't it?"

Aizen nodded with a slight frown to his face. Tousen said, "It is no shame at all, Aizen-sama. He was a mindless brute; all he ever did was question your authority. If you ask me, this is a good day for us." Grimmjow's lip curled.

Aizen said, his voice making it so obvious that he could care less about the death, "Kaname, I am surprised at you. You should know how difficult it was to find someone as strong as him. We're down a number now."

Grimmjow bit his lip, trying to deny the growing idea that he knew exactly who it was they spoke of. _It isn't true. It could be anyone. I wouldn't be so careless as to let it happen! _

Aizen then said, "But you are right. I will no longer have to worry about whether or not he will endanger our cause."

And Grimmjow couldn't take it. And when he turned to demand to be shown something else, he found himself staring at the sky of the human world. It was sunset now, the world around them was stained purple and orange. And beside him stood—much to his relief—Ulquiorra with Yammy beside him, they were both standing in the sky overlooking a cemetery down below. Grimmjow felt something like despair welling up inside of him when he saw little to no change in Ulquiorra's demeanor, though he didn't know why he had expected any at all.

Yammy said, squatting down beside the shorter male, "Man, this is boring. They aren't even doing anything!" Ulquiorra simply said, "Be quiet." And Yammy scowled and scratched his head. He turned to Ulquiorra. "So…you heard about what happened?"

Ulquiorra was silent and Grimmjow watched his face intently.

He spoke, his voice empty as it always was…but seemingly more so than usual. Or perhaps Grimmjow truly was desperate and reading far into things. "What of it?" Yammy said, "Nothin'. It's just kinda funny, ain't it? For all his big words, he ended up dead in a ditch!" he said, sniggering stupidly.

Ulquiorra was silent again, the wind blowing through his hair and raising his coattails behind him. "If you say so." Yammy said, "C'mon! Don't be such a downer! If I were you, I'd be happy as hell! You hated him and havin' one less piece of trash getting in your way is something to be happy about!"

Ulquiorra's reply took a moment, as if he momentarily disappeared into his thoughts, analyzing every memory. He said, "He was bothersome, yes, but certainly not worth my time hating. Do not put words into my mouth." Grimmjow felt his despair momentarily lesson. Ulquiorra turned to Yammy and said with cold hardness, "But do not mistake my statement for grief. He was a nuisance to Aizen-sama and for that reason alone, I am relieved he will not be there to throw a wrench into his plans."

And those words pierced him and he slumped, hanging his head against his chest. So, that was it then…No one cared, not a single person. He had been so foolish to even think—

Ulquiorra said, "There is nothing new to report. If anything, it feels as if Kurosaki's spiritual energy has weakened. Aizen-sama will probably be disappointed. Let's go." And Ulquiorra opened a Garganta and stepped through it with the larger man and silence once again filled the air.

Grimmjow stood completely still, letting all of what he had heard from the other Espada sink in. He didn't think he could recall ever feeling more alone than he did right now. The wind blew by him, forcing a shudder from him and he listened to the raspy breathing of the hooded spirit behind him. He looked down below into the cemetery and knew he didn't need to guess why Kurosaki was here.

And he drifted down to the ground and began to walk past the rows of graves, his tired eyes staring blearily ahead of him. And he could see them standing up ahead, Mr. Kurosaki holding Karin tightly to him with his head hung low and Ichigo standing before the gravestone, his arms holding himself as if he were very cold. The three of them stood before a small grave.

And Grimmjow felt something inside him break. "Oh, not the kid." His voice was a pleading whisper. The spirit lifted a hand, its fingers beckoning him to go closer and Grimmjow flung up a hand in front of his eyes. "_No_, I will _not _go any closer to that kid's grave!" he shouted and he turned away, unable to stare any longer at the grave of the dead girl. He didn't know how he could handle the situation if he did go closer. _This wasn't supposed to happen, this wasn't _meant _to happen! Fuck, _why_ is this happening?! _

And he was angered by the absolute _unfairness_ of it all. She had had _everything_ to live for.

And in his anger, he turned to make himself watch to remind himself that he was the main reason she wasn't here, watching as Kurosaki, his figure nearly a silhouette, knelt before the grave of his little sister and placed her little crutch upon the grave. He felt his angered front crack, feeling something much more personal threatening to overwhelm him. Kurosaki spoke in a shaking voice, "Rest easy, you hear me, Yuzu? Don't worry about us…'kay?" his voice was thick with suppressed tears but he tried so hard to hold them back, as if trying to assure her they would somehow get by. "I…tried…you know I did, right? Don't you?" he lifted a hand and wiped at his eyes. "Yuzu…" he whimpered, sinking to his knees in the snow as sorrow over came him.

And Grimmjow couldn't take anymore and brought his fist slamming into the tombstone next to him. "_Fuck_!" He breathed in harshly, his voice shaking. "This wasn't supposed to end this way! She wasn't supposed to die!" He shouted, the anger in his voice giving way to what he had tried to hide behind it. And he couldn't continue.

_Bring her back. She didn't deserve this…_

Grimmjow felt something wet sliding down his cheek and he hastily wiped it away and lowered his hand from his face to find that the back of his knuckles were damp. And it was as if that single tear, showing just how much this truly affected him, was what made him finally cave. A powerful wave of remorse hit him and he found himself leaning against the tombstone, his face in his hand as all the emotions he had held in overnight broke free in the form of choked sobs, feeling completely and utterly hopeless. And he could feel that his time with the spirit was drawing to a close.

_Time._

And a sudden _impossible_ thought struck him, a thought so hopeful to him; he didn't dare believe it to be true. But it _had_ to be! Because things just _couldn't_ end this way! Why would they have shown him all of this only to break him? And with that thought in mind he said, "This is the future; this is what will happen if things aren't changed, right? Is what I'm seeing what is _going_ to happen or what _could_ happen? There is still time, isn't there?!" Grimmjow asked, slowly straightening up as what little hope he had very slowly returned to him.

The phantom stood, ever silent.

He could feel the minutes racing by and he knew his time was running out.

"Fine if you won't give me the answer to that, then show me the dead man everyone was mocking!" And the area around him changed, the snow turned to dry sand and the noon sky turned inky black. And Grimmjow looked ahead of him to see a crumpled body lying in the sand.

His body lay on the ground, the sand beneath him drenched in blood and his own broken weapon lying at his side. Grimmjow stumbled towards his lifeless form, horror mounting inside of him as his fears were finally confirmed. He _had_ been the one they had all mocked and expressed relief for his passing. He had died the same way he had always lived, alone.

Only hours ago, the idea of dying alone would not have unsettled him. The idea of dying itself would have. And he could only imagine why his feelings about dying alone had changed. Because he realized just what a lonely life he lived because he had seen images of families united, and complete strangers coming together and he had seen _love_ between himself and another person and realized just how badly he wanted that for himself because he had never had it, not in this life.

And if things were somehow not changed, he never would ever again. No one had missed him, not a single word of remorse had been said. No one had cared. And he didn't want it to be that way. He didn't want to die alone, not again. But how could he _possibly_ change things?

"No. _No_! I'll _never_ accept this, do you hear me I _refuse_ to accept it!" Grimmjow had turned towards the phantom standing as silent as ever behind him. "What I just saw was the future, but the future can be changed if different actions are taken, can't it?! Why would you show me this if I'm beyond hope?" And finally, he had had it. Things would _not_ end this way. Not if he could help it!

And Grimmjow clutched at the front of the spirit's robe and said, "If you can't speak then _listen_ to me, dammit! You can't just show me _this_ and expect me to just give up and accept that this is the way things are going to be! Not after all that I've been through tonight! I will _not_ throw away the lessons I've been taught! I will keep them with me this Christmas, and the next and the next! I'd be a _fool_ to shut them out! Give me more time and I will _prove_ to you that I'm not the man I was! Just give me the chance to prove it!" Grimmjow besieged. And with those words, he began to understand everything he had been shown and told this night.

_Now I get it…_

"I understand now!" and from the realization in those words came a truly happy grin. "I see what you all meant! I _understand!_" And his voice and his words were more earnest than they had ever been! And in his grip, the phantom's cloak became a sheet; the sand beneath him became his mattress and the desert around him, his living quarters.

And he awoke in his room, clutching his sheets in his fist, his last "I understand!" echoing once more around the room before silence fell. He looked around the room, taking in each and every detail. Everything was as he had left it. But he had to be certain. He looked towards the clock on his bedside table and saw that the time was 7:00 in the morning. He watched the clock, hardly daring to believe it.

And the time became 7:01. And that was all the confirmation he needed to know that he was back in the present.

And a vicious grin was on his face, nearly splitting it in two. And Grimmjow could feel laughter rising from deep within him and before he knew it, he had broken out into fits of _gleeful_ (almost maniacal!) laughter! It was the first time he could _ever_ recall feeling so completely, utterly happy! In fact, this was probably the first time he had ever laughed out of pure, childlike glee rather than over having just stabbed someone!

Just the idea was so strange to him that he laughed even harder, throwing back his head.

He still had time left! He had all the time in the world! And he wasn't going to waste a _second_ of it!

He fell back against his bed and stared up at the ceiling, grinning so hard, his cheeks hurt! "This can't be true! No. This is _too_ good to be true!" And he wrenched himself to his feet and raced to the door and flung it open. He could see one of the lower ranked Arrancar cleaning the halls. He ran up to her and said, gripping her arm, "Tell me what day it is!"

She gasped and very fearfully said, "I-it is the twenty-fifth today, Grimmjow-sama! I believe h-humans refer to today as Christmas! Now, I haven't done anything wrong so, p-please don't—!" And Grimmjow in a sudden _burst _of pure excitement, slammed a punch into the wall, unable to believe how _good_ this was! The Arrancar jumped eight feet and Grimmjow cackled! And, getting an idea that excited him, he said, "Hey, you! Don't clean my room today, got it? At all! Take the day off! If I see you go near it, I'll punch a hole in you!" And, laughing at the look of horror that began to fade from her face to be replaced by a deeply confused look, he ran back into his room and opened his wardrobe and filled through the items, nearly tearing his jackets in the process, before he found what he was looking for.

Aizen would occasionally give the Espada money in case he needed them to buy something important from the world of the living. Grimmjow pulled out a fistful of dollars from a small box in the back of his wardrobe. _How much do you think he needs—? Whatever. I'll just—I'll just take it _all_! Ha! The look on his face when he sees this will kill me! _And Grimmjow laughed aloud, excitement filling him! _He won't know what's hit me; he'll think I'm crazy! And who knows, I bet I am! I don't give a damn! _Already sniggering almost mischievously at the expression he could already _imagine_ plastered on Kurosaki's face, he shoved the money in his pocket and hurried from the room! He began to hurry away down the halls and viciously (but in a way that could only be described as friendlily and eagerly), greeted all Fraccion and the few Espada he saw in the hallways, even Nnoitra, who gaped at him.

Now he just needed to speak to a certain Cuatro Espada. Because he would be _damned_ before he spent this Christmas alone, and that went for the _both_ of them!

His face broke into an excited grin and truly happy feeling entered his chest.

It was about damn time!

* * *

I really took a lot of time editing this one. I became very self conscious of my portrayal of Grimmjow towards the end of this chapter, particularly with his epiphany. I hope he wasn't too Scrooge-like and was instead more Grimmjow-like, kind of hard to do when he is playing Scrooge's role, but yeah I hope he's in character enough. Even if he has been somewhat redeemed, I hope you all still see him as Grimmjow and I'll keep him as mischievously happy (as well as rather aggressive in his friendliness) as I can, that's how I see him as being if he were redeemed, hehheh.

I also found out there's already a Bleach fanfic based on ACC with Grimmjow as Scrooge. So I felt really annoyed about that lol. But whatever. I hope all of you had a good Christmas and thank you SO much for your lovely reviews! It makes me so happy to know my story has moved you and that you are enjoying it so much. Next chapter is the final chapter and I am really excited to write it.

Til next chapter!


	5. Chapter 5

**Part 5: God Bless us, every one!**

Grimmjow tore through the halls of Las Noches, his eyes searching for the Cuatro Espada. _Come on! Where is he? Don't tell me he's out on a mission! _And Grimmjow passed a corner and paused before hurrying back to it. He hurried into the throne room and said, "Yo, Aizen. Is Ulquiorra here?" Aizen frowned, curious as to why he was asking. "No, he isn't. He's out buying cold medicine for Gin in the human—,"

And Grimmjow nodded and hurried away down the halls, opening a Garganta the instant he arrived in the desert and hurrying through it before emerging on the other side and looking down upon the snow covered town below him. Why had he never noticed just how _nice_ the houses looked covered in snow?

_First thing on my list, get the biggest damn turkey I can find! _And he flew down to the ground and entered his Gigai, listening to the laughter of children as they frolicked in the snow and the happy chattering of adults. Watching them all socialize made him long to speak to someone, anyone at all. So he lifted his hand and waved cheerily at a few passersby and they waved back and he chuckled.

He breathed in the cool crisp air and exhaled, shuddering pleasantly and watching snowflakes fall from the sky. How was he able to get such a kick out of the littlest things today? There was just so much joy in the air it was infectious!

And he arrived at the butcher's and strode up to the counter, resting an elbow upon it. He said, "Hey! Get me the biggest turkey you have!" and the man nodded and set about preparing the turkey and Grimmjow's mouth nearly fell open when he set it down upon the counter with a loud _thud_! It was a massive turkey! It looked like it could feed a party of people!

Grimmjow cackled gleefully, getting an idea that greatly excited him. "Send this to the Kurosaki Clinic!" And the boy asked, "Your name, sir?" And Grimmjow said excitedly, "Don't tell 'em who sent it, don't even describe me! Here," and he paid the boy extra. "Thanks, sir!" the boy said happily and he heaved the turkey into his arms and Grimmjow grinned, noticing how the turkey was bigger than the man's head!

He caught the door for the delivery boy on his way out and was away down the street, still chuckling at the image of the man carrying a turkey larger than his head and wider than his skinny waist.

_I probably won't be there to see their faces when they get that massive thing. Oh well. I'm still turning up for dinner tonight. _

And with a new found idea he thought, _and so is Ulquiorra._

* * *

Grimmjow had been strolling in the streets for about five minutes until he saw him. He was standing perfectly straight, as he always did, his black coat blowing gently in the wind along with his ebony hair. He looked as graceful as ever. He was watching the same carolers beneath that large Christmas tree, listening to them sing.

He walked up behind him and glanced at him to find Ulquiorra had noticed him, as expected. "What are you doing here? Aizen-sama didn't say I needed assistance." he stated. Grimmjow said, "I ain't here for Aizen, Ulquiorra. I was lookin' for you."

The pale man looked at him in curiosity, his emerald stare piercing and Grimmjow could tell he was trying to read him and understand why he would have been looking for him. "You ever get tired of trying to be right and wanna try just askin', Ulquiorra?" Grimmjow asked, shoving his hands into his pockets, his small grin never wavering.

Ulquiorra said, "You mistake me. I am merely trying to find the source of your good mood." Grimmjow said, "Don't try, trust me, you'll get a headache. Listen." He paused, unsure how to phase his proposition. Ulquiorra waited and Grimmjow said, "I want us to put aside our shit for today. I want you to stop hating me just for today and instead, I want you to come to a party with me." He saw Ulquiorra's eyes widen and Grimmjow's grin widened. "I ain't crazy. Trust me."

"I do not understand where this came from. Yesterday you could barely stand to be in my presence and you hated this holiday. Now you want to celebrate it? Where exactly?"

Grimmjow grinned. "Kurosaki's house."

Ulquiorra stared at him, eyes widening slightly. "You have…gone crazy, haven't you?" Grimmjow let out a bark of laughter. "No, I ain't crazy! _He's_ the one who invited me and honestly, do we have anywhere better to be?"

"You hate him." Ulquiorra stated, clearly confused.

"Not today. Look, I'm tired of being alone on Christmas. And I know you're going to say "we're always alone, it doesn't matter if it is a holiday or not, blah, blah, blah," but guess what, I for one know that you are curious about Christmas. So, I'm asking you to stop sitting on your ass and to come celebrate, put aside your dislike for me, for today and come have a good time."

Ulquiorra was quiet, seemingly still trying to figure out why he was saying such things. Grimmjow said, "And for God's sake, turn off that damn computer in your head. Or it'll explode." He said with a humorous grin.

After a moment of silence, Ulquiorra said, "…Very well. I'll go to Kurosaki's Christmas party with you. I'm curious as to his intentions and whether he will plan to ambush us and if that should happen, Aizen-sama would not like to lose an Espada. I could potentially learn something as well."

"And you're curious as fuck about Christmas." Grimmjow added and Ulquiorra ignored him and said, "I'll meet you there tonight." And Grimmjow called, "Leave your sword. Trust me, you won't need it!" And chuckling at how crazy Ulquiorra probably thought he was and, chuckling once more at the fact that he somehow hadn't gotten his feathers ruffled by Ulquiorra's comment about how he was going just to ensure he didn't die (which was honestly a weak excuse), Grimmjow turned and headed away down the street.

He paused for a moment to listen to the carolers sing and then, with a pleased sigh, he said with an excited grin, "Off to Kurosaki's house!" and he hurried away down the street. He stopped outside a store however and gazed inside, suddenly remembering that Ulquiorra had stopped in one not long ago and bought something. Regardless of whether the Cuatro still had it, Grimmjow found the urge to do the same.

This time, he wouldn't be unprepared. He left the store with a feeling of satisfaction for the gift and for thinking of such a thing. He wondered how Ulquiorra would react to being given a present? The idea made him both nervous and excited and he headed away down the streets towards the Kurosaki Clinic but paused. _This is a party right? Is it a good idea to turn up in t-shirts and jeans? _And he headed into another store to buy a tuxedo before he left and arrived at the Kurosaki Clinic.

Admittedly, Grimmjow had been pacing outside the house for nearly five minutes, wringing his hands together in agitation. Finally, his stomach doing flip-flops, he strode up to the door and lifted a hand. _Fuck's he's gonna totally say no…fuck, fuck, fuck fuck—!_

He knocked three times rather loudly, looking around the street nervously. He could hear happy chattering from inside and felt his eagerness to be inside mounting. Mr. Kurosaki answered the door and said, "Hey, Merry Christmas! I've never seen you around before. You new in town?" he asked, letting him inside. Grimmjow shook his hand with a little too much eagerness (even clapping him upon the back) and said, "Nah, I've been in town before. Merry Christmas to you, too." He said.

"Your son here?" he asked, looking around. Mr. Kurosaki replied cheerfully, "He's out grocery shopping and taking forever like the fool he is. Ah, there he is now! Finally!" he said, pointing out into the yard. Grimmjow turned and grinned when he saw the orange haired teen, Yuzu upon his shoulder, entering the front yard and instantly fixed his deepest scowl onto his face before he boomed, "_Kurosaki_!" and Ichigo jumped and nearly dropped his groceries.

"Oh no…" he muttered. "Grimmjow, you piece of shit! _Not_ today!" he yelled. Grimmjow rolled his eyes, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing and he stormed towards him. "Pathetic! You think I care whether you're in the mood for it or not, Kurosaki? This little spat of ours has gone on for too long and I'm fucking sick of it! I'm ending it! So…" and Grimmjow reached into his pocket and Ichigo set Yuzu down and before he could order her to run, she was hiding behind him.

Grimmjow's scowl faltered and before he could hide it, a grin was on his face. "I'll be giving you this," And he handed Ichigo a large pile of cash, "Or however much more you'll need for that kid behind you." They both stared at him and at the sight of their faces, Grimmjow began to laugh and Ichigo seized the nearest shovel and aimed it at him.

Grimmjow said gleefully, "Merry Christmas, you bastard!" And when Ichigo seemed less terrified for his life, Grimmjow said sincerely, "Kurosaki, take this," He handed the money to him and Ichigo took it with wide eyes. "For your sister from me. I don't know how much surgery costs so whatever else is left over, is yours."

A truly surprised expression was on Ichigo's face now, his eyes had widened and a small hopeful smile was begging to cross his face. "Seriously?" he said. Grimmjow nodded. "Hell yeah." And to Grimmjow's surprise, happy tears were in Ichigo's eyes. He turned to Yuzu and they could both see a bright smile on her face.

"I…I can't believe you. What—how—? You—!" Ichigo stammered, half laughing and crying now. Grimmjow's grin faltered when he felt something around his mid section and he looked down to find Yuzu had wrapped her arms tightly around him, her face nuzzled against his stomach. Grimmjow felt something tighten in his chest and he ruffled her hair and said, "Hey, missy. You get better, you hear me? And you do it fast. Can't have you leaving this moron behind. He'd never manage." And Yuzu smiled tearfully up at him.

"Mm hm!" she said happily. And behind them, the delivery boy from the butcher's arrived at the gate and called, "I have a delivery here for Kurosaki!" and Ichigo turned and his mouth fell down to his chest when he saw the massive turkey being heaved towards him! Yuzu gasped as well and Mr. Kurosaki and Karin ran into the yard.

Ichigo took the turkey and nearly fell _backwards_ onto the ground and said, "Who sent this? This is massive!" and Grimmjow said, "Merry Christmas, Kurosakis!" and Ichigo turned towards him with a shocked expression that melted away into a grin and Karin and Yuzu raced forward to admire the turkey while Mr. Kurosaki stood in the door with a happy smile on his face.

Ichigo staggered forward excitedly to tell him about Yuzu to which the man promptly burst into happy tears and attempted to hug Grimmjow, and Grimmjow found himself pushing him back, not nearly ready for that kind of thank you. "I don't need thanks. But listen well, Kurosaki. Every _day_ in this household will be like Christmas from now on. Now…is that party still happening?"

And he was ushered inside by the ecstatic family, Yuzu in particular clinging to his side. Inside the house Grimmjow recognized many faces, all of whom he could recall seeing when he fought Kurosaki such as Orihime, Rukia and Chad and some red haired guy he didn't recognize. He greeted them all with a charming grin and they curiously greeted him back.

A friend of Ichigo's, Uryuu Ishida, played the piano and they all sang carols, even Grimmjow whose voice (when he became familiar with the lyrics) nearly drowned them all out and greatly amused Yuzu. And just as Orihime cheerfully suggested a dance, the door was knocked on. Ichigo said, "Wait, just how many people did you invite, dad?!" and hurried to it and opened the door. Grimmjow peered over him, staring intently and hoping it was who he thought it was.

Ulquiorra stood in the doorway dressed in a tuxedo and Grimmjow's face broke into a grin. Ichigo looked a little nervous and Grimmjow strode forward and said, "He's my guest. Yo!" Ulquiorra saw him and stepped inside, looking highly unsure what to do. Grimmjow said, "Glad you came." Ulquiorra said, "I have no idea why I'm here."

Grimmjow said, "We're about to dance. You're joining us. I ain't taking no for an answer." And as he spoke, Mr. Kurosaki turned on some Christmas music and the people in the living room picked a partner and began to dance. Ulquiorra said, "I'm not doing that." And Grimmjow took his hand and said, "It's easy. Come on. You aren't sitting on the side anymore."

"I'm dancing…with you, then?" Ulquiorra asked and Grimmjow said with a smirk, "Who else? You wanna dance with a Shinigami?" And they entered the living room and Ulquiorra said, "I should probably warn you, I don't know how to dance."

Grimmjow said, "I think I do." And he positioned Ulquiorra's hands the way he had seen them in his memory. Remembering the first few steps, he said, "Ready? Let's do this." And he took the first step to the left, bringing Ulquiorra with him. Ulquiorra frowned when he stumbled and Grimmjow only grinned and said, "Watch my feet."

Ulquiorra did and within seconds he was easily mimicking his steps and was now able to look at Grimmjow. "Why me of all people?" he asked as Grimmjow moved them in a slow circle. "Do I need a reason?" he asked, stepping back from Ulquiorra to twirl him once and Ulquiorra frowned at that, seemingly unprepared for it.

"Where'd you learn to dance? I can't imagine you dancing in your room." he said and Grimmjow laughed at the image and said, "Someone taught me." He himself was surprised by how graceful his own movements were. They weaved easily between others, Ulquiorra occasionally glancing around the room and avoiding eye contact with him.

Grimmjow knew this probably felt weird for him and he was probably having mixed feelings about why he was here and the arm around Ulquiorra's waist pulled him closer. "Just stop thinking. Feel." Ulquiorra said, "I'm not sure I am capable of that." Grimmjow said, "Try. Talk to me. Enough questions. You have a mind of your own for a reason, you know." He didn't care what they talked about; he just wanted to speak to him.

And to his surprise, Ulquiorra did start talking.

"Interestingly enough, you have surprised me today." Grimmjow grinned. "Good to hear."

"Not only because of your invitation but because you actually managed to throw on a suit." Grimmjow chuckled. "What? I have a sense of style too, you know!" Ulquiorra said, "Your dancing isn't half bad either, surprisingly." Grimmjow said, "Yours ain't either. I would have expected my toes to be crushed by now." Ulquiorra noted, "And now we're complimenting each other. What's happening?" he asked tiredly. Grimmjow removed his hand from Ulquiorra's to gesture to the window. "Yeah, look outside, the world's ending!" He noticed just how small Ulquiorra's hands were compared to his.

And suddenly Ulquiorra had taken the lead in their dancing and was guiding Grimmjow about the room. Grimmjow was surprised by this but allowed himself to be lead around the room. For the next few minutes they found themselves exchanging banter here and there and Grimmjow watched in awe as Ulquiorra seemed to slowly come out of himself through the teasing remarks.

When the dance ended they sat beside one another at dinner and Orihime struck up a conversation with Ulquiorra, which somewhat disappointed Grimmjow as he had been talking to him. Their discussion ended quickly however and Grimmjow instantly returned to their conversation. The dinner was fantastic, the massive turkey was juicy and delicious and the dessert was amazing as well and by the time it was over, Grimmjow left with quite a stomach ache as they headed to the square to watch the lights.

He still challenged Ulquiorra to a race however and after a little goading, Ulquiorra and Grimmjow both ended up running to the square. Ulquiorra got there before him however and Grimmjow slumped against a lamppost, a stitch in his side. "Don't you dare gloat, Ulquiorra!" he said, coughing. Ulquiorra seated himself upon a bench, catching his breath.

"I wouldn't dream of it." He replied, resting his head back against the bench. "If you hadn't stuffed yourself, you might have made it." Grimmjow seated himself on the bench beside him and said, "Well, at least I ain't skinny as a stick. That ain't healthy for you." He said, staring up at the stars. And as they had beaten everyone here and were alone, Grimmjow reached into his pocket and pulled out a small wrapped box and said, "Here."

Ulquiorra stared from the box to him and said, "Why should I carry things for you?" and Grimmjow snorted and said, "No, it's _for_ you, dummy." And a rare look of surprise crossed his face. He reached out and took the present and simply said, "Oh." before carefully removing the ribbon and then the green paper. Within the wrapping paper was a book by a British author about one of the most well-known fictional detectives in the world. Grimmjow had seen him reading it in his memory, though he was unsure how he felt about them in the present.

"I ain't sure how you feel about mystery novels, but you like books, right?" Grimmjow said almost nervously. Ulquiorra opened the large book and skimmed through the pages in curiosity. "Why?" he asked and Grimmjow titled his head. "Why…what?" Ulquiorra said, "Why did you get this for me?" Grimmjow said, "Because I wanted to. Why else?"

Ulquiorra pressed him. "From what I can tell, humans exchange gifts because they care about one another. Until this morning, you hated me. So why buy me something?" Grimmjow honestly didn't know how to explain in a way that would make sense. He said slowly, "You make it sound like it would be a bad thing if someone cared about you. I had time to think about things last night and I just decided I'm sick of the both of us being alone. You shouldn't be alone this time of year…or any other year. So…this is just a way of saying…you aren't alone and that I care…I guess." He added, somewhat sheepishly.

Ulquiorra was silent and then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a familiar box and handed it out to him. Grimmjow sat up, surprised. _He…got that for me? _He was deeply surprised! "Thanks." He said, unsure what else to say. He took it from him and opened it hastily, eager to finally sate his curiosity. Within the box sat a silver chain with a gothic number six made of gold. He lifted it, dangling the chain between his fingers. It was beautiful and shone brightly in the light from the street lamp behind him.

Ulquiorra said, "I saw that when I was here earlier and I was reminded of you. Perhaps it was out of curiosity for the reason behind the idea of gift giving or maybe the holiday itself is starting to rub off on me, but I bought it." Grimmjow stared at him, feeling something in his chest tighten happily. A small smile lifted his lips. "Couldn't have been…cheap."

Ulquiorra said, "It wasn't. You like it, it seems." He said, taking note of the happy expression on Grimmjow's face. "My present couldn't have been as expensive but most likely came with a high price as well." Ulquiorra said to Grimmjow. He just shrugged, feeling strangely moved by Ulquiorra's actions. "Doesn't matter." He slipped the chain on, making sure it sat against his dress shirt, rather than beneath it as he didn't want it hidden from sight.

Ulquiorra seemed to be very pleased, a light was in his eyes and he looked Grimmjow over, admiring the way it looked on him. "So…" Ulquiorra said, seeming to understand something, "This is the reason humans give one another gifts, then? Because of the feeling associated with it." Grimmjow nodded, grinning. "Pretty simple, huh?" and Ulquiorra nodded, staring down at the book in his lap.

"Thank you, then." And it almost sounded like Ulquiorra was…happy. Grimmjow looked up from admiring the little necklace and found that Ulquiorra's gaze was gentle, his words sincere. He wasn't even smiling but from the look in his eyes, he might have been. And it made Grimmjow happy, too.

He wasn't even thinking when he leaned over and placed a soft kiss to the man's cheek, it was as if he was acting on a basic instinct. He felt Ulquiorra tense against him and realized what he had done and with some reluctance, moved away to find Ulquiorra staring at him with a truly shocked expression on his face. Grimmjow said humorously, "That's a good look for ya." And he said, somewhat embarrassed by his actions, "Merry Christmas, Ulquiorra."

And Ulquiorra replied, "You, too." And a pleasant silence fell until Ichigo strode past them and called, "Oi, what are you two doing? Come on! The light show is about to start!" and as Yuzu hurried past, Grimmjow stood and heaved her onto his shoulder and she laughed in happy surprise. Grimmjow grinned and said, "Hey, you comin', Ulqui?" and Ulquiorra, seemingly in thought about what had just occurred between himself and Grimmjow said, "Yes. And don't call me that." And Grimmjow just chuckled and took Ulquiorra's hand, pulling him away down the street.

Maybe Ulquiorra became distracted by the lights that danced around the square, but he didn't remove his hand from Grimmjow's for the entire spectacle. And Grimmjow had no protests about it.

And from then on, Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez was a different person. He was a much happier person, he more generous and above all he was never alone. Even after the day was over, even if their little arrangement was meant to last a day, Grimmjow and Ulquiorra made a habit of spending most of their days together, getting to know more of one another. They were more respectful towards each other and if they did argue, they would find themselves only understanding one another more. Grimmjow wasn't sure if they would become what he had seen in his memories, and if they didn't, it was fine by him as long as Ulquiorra was happy in whatever stage of their relationship they were in.

And eventually, they did.

As for the Kurosaki family, due to their position as Espada and as Ichigo was a Shinigami, Grimmjow and Ulquiorra only ever stopped by whenever they were in town which was rare, but the Kurosaki family never forgot what Grimmjow did for them and though he didn't see her often, Yuzu (who did _not_ die) considered Grimmjow a second father and he thought of her as the sister he never had.

Of course, Aizen did eventually find out about his relationship with the Kurosaki family and when he did, Grimmjow was ordered away from Las Noches. He didn't care, especially not since Ulquiorra willingly followed him, leading them both to settle down in a small house in Karakura town. It was difficult adjusting at first, but eventually they both got used to their new living conditions and being stuck in a house with one another.

He never saw any of the ghosts again, but he never forgot the lessons they taught him. And it was always said of him be it amongst the friends he invited over, or amongst the people he greeted on the street during Christmas, that he knew how to keep the spirit of Christmas alive either during Christmas or long before it had come. And let the same be said of all of us! And so, as Yuzu herself once said, God bless us, every one!

**The End**

* * *

****And so my story comes to an end. And I have to say, I kind of hate this chapter. It felt...really ooc and really forced with some of the interactions particularly Grimm & Ulqui's. But whatever. It's over. I'd like to thank you all for reading. I might have an idea for another multichaptered grimmulqui fanfic, but the idea hasn't really full formed yet and I just have a slight idea and it isn't much to go on yet. I'd like to thank you guys again for reading, I didn't imagine so many people would like it this much so thanks so much for your kind words and I hope you all liked this chapter more than I did! Thanks for reading and have a Happy New Year!


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